^m 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


■V^ihii 


^w\  i 


Corporal  3'    K'^^^ 


ADD    MIS    "FAl^D." 


How  THEY   Lived  and    Talked,   and  what  they  Did 

AND  Suffered,  while  Fighting 

FOR  the  Flag. 


BY 

WILBUR  F.  HINMAN, 

1/3 te  Lieutenant-Colonel  Sixt3^-fiftli  Regiment,  Ohio  Veteran  Volunteer 

Infantry. 


With  193  Original  Illustrations  drawn  by 
George  Y.  Coffin. 


'The  neighing  troop,  the  flashing  blade, 
The  bugle's  stirring  blast, 
The  charge,  the  dreadful  cannonade, 
The  din  and  shout  are  past." 

—  Theodore  O' Ham* 


FOURTEENTH  THOUSAND. 
N.    G.    H'AMILTON    &    CO 

CLEVELAND,    OHIO. 
1889. 


Copyright,  1887. 
By  WILBUR  F.  HINMAN. 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERTED. 


WITH   TENDER  RECOLLECTIONS  OT 

MY  "PARD," 

Who  fell  at  Chickamauga,  September  20,  1863,     ^ 
I  inscribe  this  Volume 

TO 

His  Memory. 

WE  SLEPT  under  THE  SAME  BLANKET  AND 

"drank  from  the  same 

CANTEEN." 


5009S0 


THE  AUTHOR  TO  HIS  READERS. 

MANY  books  have  been  written — and  many  more  will 
be — upon  subjects  connected  with  the  war  for  the 
Union.  There  is  no  end  of  histories— of  campaigns  and 
battles  and  regiments — and  lives  of  prominent  generals; 
but  these  do  not  portray  the  every-day  life  of  the  soldier. 
To  do  this,  and  this  only,  has  been  the  aim  of  the  author 
in  ''Corporal  Si  Klegg  and  his  'Pard.'  " 

This  volume  is  not  a  history;  nor  is  it  a  ''story,"  in  the 
usual  acceptation  of  the  word.  "Si  Klegg  "and  "Shorty,*' 
his  "pard,"  are  imaginary  characters — though  their  pro- 
totypes were  in  every  regiment — and  Company  Q,  200th 
Indiana,  to  which  they  belonged,  is,  of  course,  ficti- 
tious. Their  haps  and  mishaps  while  undergoing  the 
process  of  transformation  that  made  them  soldiers,  and 
their  diverse  and  constantly  changing  experiences  on  the 
march,  the  battle-field  and  the  picket-line,  in  camp  and 
bivouac,  in  hospital  and  prison,  were  those  that  entered 
directly  into  the  daily  life  or  observation  of  all  the  sol- 
diers. 

Carefully  avoiding  everything  in  the  nature  of  burlesque 
or  extravagance,  the  writer  has  aimed  to  present  a  truth- 
ful picture  of  "soldiering."  He  feels  justified  in  the  belief 
that  such  of  his  comrades  as  may  read  these  pages  will,  at 
least,  give  him  the  credit  of  fidelity  to  the  actual  life  of  a 
million  volunteers. 

This  book  has  not  been  written  from  hearsay.  It  was 
the  writer's  fortune  to  serve  four  years  at  the  front,  in  a 
regiment  which,  with  eleven  hundred  men  on  its  rolls,  from 


VI  PREFACE. 

first  to  last,  was  reduced  by  the  casualties  of  battle  and 
the  ravages  of  disease  to  one  hundred  and  thirty,  officers 
and  men,  present  for  duty  at  the  time  it  was  mustered  out. 
It  had  traveled  fifteen  thousand  miles — more  than  six 
thousand  on  foot.  During  the  first  year  of  his  service  the 
writer  carried  a  musket  and  knapsack.  These  facts  are 
mentioned  only  to  show  that  he  had  abundant  experience, 
without  which  it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  such  a  book 
as  this. 

The  vivid  memories  of  those  four  eventful  years  have 
supplied  all  the  material.  No  other  source  has  been  drawn 
upon  for  information  or  suggestion.  The  author  has  made 
no  attempt  at  literary  embroidery,  but  has  rather  chosen 
the  ''free  and  easy"  form  of  language  that  marked  the  in- 
tercourse of  the  soldiers,  and  therefore  seemed  most  ap- 
propriate to  the  theme.  He  has  tried  to  flavor  the  narra- 
tive with  the  spice  of  army  life — for  there  was  some  ''fun," 
though  a  great  deal  more  of  the  reverse  character — en- 
deavoring to  present  the  picture  in  all  its  varied  hues. 

Thinking  it  possible  that  some  may  read  this  volume 
who  have  no  experimental  knowledge  of  life  in  the  army, 
the  author  has  devoted  pages,  here  and  there,  to  informa- 
tion of  an  explanatory  nature,  which  he  hopes  will  assist 
them  in  appreciating,  perhaps  as  never  before,  how  the 
soldiers  lived— and  died. 

The  patriotism,  the  sacrifice  and  the  suffering  were  not 
confined  to  the  army.  The  home  scenes  herein  presented 
were  common  to  every  city  and  village  and  hamlet,  from 
Maine  to  California. 

It  is  believed  that  the  illustrations  will  prove  an  attract- 
ive feature.  They  were  all  drawn  expressly  for  this  work, 
and  cover  every  phase  of  the  subject.  They  will  bring  to 
the  eyes  of  the  veterans  many  scenes  that  were  familiar  in 
days  long  past.  The  author  wishes  to  express  his  obliga- 
tion to  Mr.  George  Y.  Coffin,  whose  ready  pencil  and  fer- 
tile mind  have  so  faithfully  carried  out  his  designs.    He 


PREFACE.  VU 

appreciates  the  more  highly  this  assistance,  because  he 
could  never,  himself,  ''draw"  an3rthing  except  rations. 

With  fraternal  greetings  to  all  his  late  comrades-in-arms 
the  author  sends  out  this  volume,  indulging  the  hope  that 
they  may  find  pleasure  and  interest  in  living  over  again  the 
stirring  scenes  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  in  the  expe- 
riences of  *'Si  Klegg"  and  ''Shorty." 

Wilbur  F.  Hinman. 

Washington,  D.  C,  September,  1887. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Page. 
In  which  Si  Klegg,  Carried  Away  by  his  Tumultuous  Emotions, 
Enlists  in  Company  Q  of  the  Two  Hundredth  Indiana 1 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Commotion  at  the  Farm-House  Caused  by  Si's  Appearance 
IN  Uniform— The  Conflict  Between  Mars  and  Venus 13 

CHAPTER  III. 

/N  WHICH  Si  is  Provided  with  a  Bountiful  Outfit,  Makes  Satis- 
factory Progress  with  Annabel,  and  Starts  for  the  War..     28 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Contains  Some  Observations  on  a  Soldier's  Equipments,  and 

Sees  the  200th  Indiana  Off  for  the  Front •il 

CHAPTER  V. 

In  which  the  Bright  Colors  that  Fancy  Painted  Begin  to 
Fade— The  Soldier  and  his  "  Pard  "—How  Si  was  Led  from 
the  Straight  and  Narrow  Way  of  Soldierly  Rectitude 62 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Si  is  Armed  and  Equipped  for  Active  Hostilities— The  Bayonet 

AS  A  Factor  in  War 82 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  200th  Indiana  Draws  Mules  and  Dress-Coats,  and  Closes 

the  Day  with  a  Dress-Parade 94 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

In  which  Si  is  Disciplined  by  a  "Knapsack  Drill"  and  Gets 
Even  with  the  Orderly,  but  Suffers  in  Consequence 107 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

In  which  Si  Takes  his  First  Lesson  in  the  Manual  of  Arms  and 

Company  Drill 120 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  200th  Indiana  Gets  Marching  Orders  and  Si  Packs  his 

Knapsack 134 

CHAPTER  XI. 

In  which  Si's  Big  Knapsack  Proves  too  Much  for  him  and  he 
Applies  Heroic  Treatment 141 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Si  Finishes  the  Day's  March,  Nurses  his  Blisters,  and  is  De- 
tailed TO  Help  Put  Up  the  Colonel's  Tent 164 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Which  Illustrates  the  Depravity  of  the  Veteran  Soldiers 174 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

In  which,  Overcome  by  his  Aches  and  Blisters,  Si  Falls  Out  and 

Finds  How  Hard  it  is  to  "  Ketch  Up  " 187 

CHAPTER  XV. 

How  Si  Wrestled  with  the  Hardtack— Some  Remarks  on  the 
Soldier's  Bill  of  Fare 196 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Si  Gets  a  Letter  from  Annabel  and  Answers  it  Under  Diffi- 
culties   213 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Ik  which  Si's  Cherished  Desire  to  Drive  a  Mule  Team  is  Fully 

Satisfied 224 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

^i  Smells  Powder,  Behaves  Handsomely,  and  is  Made  a  Cor- 
poral   234 


CONTENTS.  JO 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

•'  Should  Old  Acquaintance  be  Forgot,  and  Never  Brought  to 
Mind  ?"— The  Little  Bug  WITH  THE  Big  Name 243. 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Si  has  Some  Practical  Lessons  in  the  Duties  of  a  Corporal 262 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Si  has  a  Varied  Experience  in  Camp  and  Goes  upon  an  Exasper- 
ating "Wild  Goose  Chase" 272 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Corporal  Klegg  Gets  a  Little  Practice  in  Confiscating,  has 
A  Vigorous  Colic,  and  Joins  the  Procession  at  Sick-Call 28& 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

IThe  Army  has  a  Spasm  of  Morality  and  Rests  on  Sunday— It 
Proves  A  Cold  Day  for  Shorty 301 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

In  which  Si's  Temper  and  Muscles  are  Sorely  Tried,  and  he 
Narrowly  Escapes  Getting  into  Trouble 316: 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

8i  Goes  Marching  on  Amidst  Rain  and  Snow,  and  has  his  Pa- 
triotism Severely  Taxed 330 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Si  has  his  First  Interview  with  the  Paymaster,  and  is  Beguiled 
into  THE  Uncertain  Game  of  "Chuck-a-Luck" 347 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

In  which  Si  Goes  Foraging,  is  Caught  in  a  Spider's  Web  and 
has  a  Close  Call 364 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

6anta  Claus  Fails  to  Connect  with  Corporal  Klegg,  whose 
OKIY  Christmas  Present  is  an  Order  to  March 37T 


xii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

PAGE 

The  200th  Indiana  Marches  to  Battle,  and  Si  Klegg  Experi- 
ences THE  Thrilling  Emotions  that  Precede  the  Conflict...  387 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Si  and  Shorty  are  Tried  in  the  Fire  and  Prove  to  be  Pure 

Gold 404 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Scenes  After  the  Battle— Calling  the  Roll  and  Burying  the 

Dead 415 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

The  200th  Indiana  has  a  Protracted  Turn  of  Fatigue  Duty- 
Si  Wrestles  with  Pick  and  Shovel  and  Tries  to  Out- 
flank the  Doctors 428 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

In  which  Si  Serves  as  a  Railway  Train  Guard  and  has  a  Call 

from  Guerrillas 44-0 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  Rebels  Cut  the  "  Cracker-Line,"  and  Si  is  Put  on  Quarter 

Rations ♦ 451 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Corporal  Klegg  Bears  the  Flag  of  the  200th  to  Victory  and 

IS  Wounded 469 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Si  Spends  a  Night  in  the  Field  Hospital  and  Sees  Some  of 

THE  Horrors  of  War 486 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Si  Gets  a  Furlough,  and  is  Surprised  Beyond  Measure  to  Find 

Himself  Famous 505 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Bad  News  Reaches  the  Klegg  Family,  but  it  Proves  to  be  Un- 
true  • 511 


CONTENTS.  Xlli 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

PAGB 

Corporal  Klegg  Reaches  Home  and  there  is  Happiness  all 
Around 528 

CHAPTER  XL. 

8i  Gets  a  Big  Letter  from  the  Governor,  Answers  it,  and  Re- 
joins HIS  Regiment 542 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

Si  and  Shorty  Re- enlist  and  Go  Home  on  Veteran  Furlough...  554 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

In  which  the  Boys  are  Domiciled  in  "Pup"  Tents— Some  Curi- 
ous Features  of  Army  Life '. 574 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Si  Enters  Upon  the  Last  Great  Campaign  which  Ends  the 
War 591 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

vAN  Unexpected  Calamity  Befalls  Corporal  Klegg  and  his 

Comrade 604 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

In  which  Si  and  Shorty  Experience  many  Vicissitudes,  but 
their  Pluck  Brings  them  Through 627 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Si  and  Shorty  Take  Sweet  Revenge  Upon  the  Enemy— Cor- 
poral Klegg  Meets  with  a  Sore  Bereavement 647 

CHAPTER  XLVII. 
I 
The  End  Comes  at  Last,  and  Si  Puts  Off  the  Army  Blue 664 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Si  Finds  it  Much  Easier  to  Get  Married  than  to  Get  ▲ 
Pension 676 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGK 

1— The  Recruiting  Officer 2 

2— Si  Klegg 5 

3— Stimulating  Village  Patriotism 9 

4 — An  Average  Army  "Fit." 12 

5— Si  and  his  Mother 16 

6 — Calamitous  Effect  of  the  News  upon  "  Sister  Marier." 20 

7— At  the  Neighbor's 27 

8— A  Model  Outfit 30 

9— A  Delusion  of  the  War 33 

10— A  Satisfactory  State  of  Affairs 37 

11— Off  to  the  War 40 

12— The  Army  Overcoat 46 

13— Si  Finds  his  Match 48 

14^Shorty 49 

15— Useful  Career  of  the  Canteen 56 

16 — Si's  First  Encounter  with  the  Veterans 64 

17— A  Baptism 68 

18— Hospitality 71 

19— Stealing  a  Bed 80^ 

20— In  Panoply  of  War 88 

21— What  Si  Expected  to  do  with  his  Bayonet 89 

22— The  Actual  Uses  he  Found  for  It 92 

23— The  "Sweat-box." 96 

24— A  Literal  Interpretation 100 

25 — The  prum-major 102 

26— Si's  First  Penance 109 

27— Veterans  on  a  Frolic 112' 

28— Si  Forgets  Himself. 117 

29— A  Rude  Awakening 118 

30—"  Load  in  Nine  Times— Load !  " 123 

31—"  Ouch!  " 124 

32— "Right  Shoulder  Shift— Arms!  " 125 

33— "  Fix— Bayonet !  " 126 

34—"  Left— Face!  " '. 127 

35— "Right— Face!" 128 

36—"  Company— Right  Wheel!  " 131. 

XT 


XVI  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

37— The  Long  Roll 135 

38— The  Tug  of  War Itl 

39— Ready  for  the  March 151 

40 — A  Serious  Miscalculation 157 

4.1— The  Shrinkage  Begins 162 

42— The  Rush  for  Water 166 

43— After  a  Day's  Tramp 168 

44 — Fleecing  the  Lambs 17€ 

45— A  Prima  Facie  Case 18< 

46— "Don't  Stab  Me." ^ 191 

47— Hj-dropathic  Treatment 191 

48 — Si  Defies  a  Regiment  of  Veterans 194 

49— A  Test  of  Jaw-Power 19'?' 

50— The  Last  Resort 198 

51— The  Effect  of  "  Getting  Used  to  It." 199 

52— The  Flesh  of  Swine 204 

53— A  Simple  Process 205 

54— "  All  Right,  Boss,  Dat's  a  Go." 206 

55— "  Mail  When  You  Get  to  Camp,  Boys!" 216 

56— Epistolary  Work  in  the  Trenches 217 

67— Si's  First  Letter 219 

58— Another  Case  of  Discipline 223 

59— "Sit  Still,  Please." 223 

60— An  Army  Team 220 

61— A  Close  Shave 229 

62—"  A  Man  Overboard." 230 

63— Total  Depravity 232 

64— In  the  Slough 233 

65— Nearly  a  Panic 237 

66— Si's  First  Shot 238 

67— A  Good  Beginning 240 

68— Corporal  Si  Klegg 242 

69— A  Lesson  in  Natural  History 246 

70— Practical  Instruction 251 

71— "  Skirmishing." 252 

72— The  Pediculus 253 

73— One  of  Life's  Pleasures 255 

74 — A  Few  Old  Acquaintances 258 

75— Corporal  Klegg  Gets  Caught. 266 

76— "Not 'Less  Ye  Say 'Bunker  Hill!'" 268 

77— Si  and  the  Contraband 270 

78— A  Dead  Shot 271 

79— "Policing "Camp 273 

80— "A  Little  More  Cider,  too." 277 

SI— The  Army  Laundry 279 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  XYll 

PAGE 

82— A  Scamper  in  Dishabille 281 

83— The  Busy  Bee 291 

84— The  200th  Indiana  Takes  to  the  Water 293 

85— A  Premature  Harvest 294 

86— A  "Bully  Boy's"  Burden 295 

87— Laying  in  Supplies 297 

88— A  Red-Letter  Day 298 

89— A  Clear  Case  of  Colic 299 

90— "Sick-Call." 300 

91— Si  Interviews  the  Doctor 300 

92— The  Captain  at  Early  Roll-Call 305 

93— "Sir,  the  Guard  is  Formed." 306 

94r-Shorty's  Cold  Day 309 

95— Calling  to  Repentance 311 

96— The  Way  of  the  Transgressor 314 

97— "Sir,  lamaCorporil!" 323 

98— "Now,  All  Together!  " 325 

99— "  Looting  "  the  Colonel's  Mess-chest 327 

100— A  Nocturnal  Picnic 329 

101— "Go  to  Bed." 332 

102— A  Cyclone  in  Camp 333 

103- Going  for  the  "  Top-Rail." 335' 

104 — Supper  under  Difficulties 336 

105— "No  Slouch  of  a  Shanty." 338 

106— Lubricating  Oil  Needed 338 

107— A  Polar  Experience 342 

108— "Paying  Off." 350 

109— His  Autograph 353 

110—"  'Leven  Dollars  'n'  Forty-three  Cents!  " 355* 

111— Chuck-a-luck , 358^ 

112— The  Sutler's  Harvest 360; 

113— A  Southern  "Mossback." 366' 

114 — Confiscation 369 

115— Robbing  the  Calf. 371 

116— The  Tables  Turned 374 

117— The  Value  of  Good  Legs 375, 

118— Christmas  Morning 380 

119— The  Fate  of  Si's  Box 381 

120— A  Cheerful  Legend 384 

121— Ready  for  Business 388 

122— They  Stop  for  Nothing 389 

123— Behind  the  Rails 391 

124 — A  Hasty  Evacuation 393 

125— "There!" 400 

126— Into  the  Battle 403 


XVUl  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

127— "Steady,  Men!" 403 

128— "Pluck." 407 

129— The  Charge  of  the  200th  Indiana 413 

130— A  Comrade  in  Distress 414 

131— "For  God's  Sake,  Help!" 420 

132—"  We  Carved  Not  a  Line,  We  Raised  Not  a  Stone." 426 

133— The  Call  to  Breakfast 430 

134— Talking  it  Over 433 

135— Camp  Ablutions 436 

136— An  Unexpected  Guest 439 

137— " Riding  on  a  Rail"  in  the  Army 444 

138— Loading  Up 447 

139— A  Brush  with  Guerrillas 450 

140— Cheers  for  the  General 454 

141— Condolence 457 

142— Reinforcements 462 

143— The  Rush  for  Rations 463 

144— "Hello,  Johnny!  "—"Hello,  Yank!" 466 

145— A  Misdeal 473 

146— Breakfast  Before  the  Fight 477 

147— Hugging  the  Ground 480 

14S-Yielding  to  the  Inevitable 482 

149— The  Charge  up  the  Ridge 484 

150— In  the  Surgeon's  Care 488 

151— The  Field  Hospital 490 

152— Under  the  Knife 492 

153— The  Two  "  Pards  " 495 

154— Death  of  Poor  Tom 502 

155— The  Ambulance  Train... 506 

156— The  War  Correspondent 509 

157— Si  Finds  Himself  Famous 513 

158— News  for  Farmer  Klegg 516 

159— "My  Boy  is  Not  Dead!  " 525 

160— Farmer  Klegg's  Drive 527 

161-" Hello,  Si!" 529 

162-Home! 533 

163— Si's  Barnyard  Welcome 535 

164— Si  at  the  Corner  Grocery 548 

165— A  Letter  from  the  Governor 550 

166— A  Momentous  Question 555 

167— Si  Starts  the  Veteran  Roll 563 

168— On  the  Way  to  "  God's  Country." 571 

169— The  Shrinkage  of  the  Tent 577 

170— The  "Pup  "Tent 580 

171— Si  as  a  Veteran 584 


1LI.USTRATIONS.  xix 

PAGE 

172— Not  to  be  Caught  Napping 594, 

173— On  the  Skirmish  Line 599 

174 — Laying  a  Pontoon  Bridge  Under  Fire 602 

175— "  Attention !  " 604 

176-Fort  Klegg 606 

177— Compelled  to  Surrender 609 

178— A  Fruitless  Dash 615 

179 — A  One-sided  Bargain 621 

180— "Treed." 632 

181— Another  Break 636 

182— In  the  Prison-pen 642 

183— In  the  Swamp 644 

184 — Return  of  the  Vagabonds 646 

185— Destroying  a  Railroad 649 

186— Under  a  Truce 653 

187—"  He  was  my  pard." '. 663 

188— Around  the  Camp-fire 667 

189— Leading  the  Jamboree 673 

190— After  a  Visit  to  the  Tailor 674 

191— The  New  Crop  of  Infantry 678 

192— The  Corps  Badges 698-700 

193— The  Bugle  Calls 700-704* 


(^orporal  Si  \[\e(^(^. 


CHAPTER  I. 

In  Which  Si  Klegg,  Carried  Away  by  His  Tumultuous  Emotions 
Enlists  in  Company  Q,  of  the  Two  Hundredth  Indiana. 

LATE  in  the  summer  of  1862,  a  smart-looking  young 
man  made  his  appearance  in  a  Httle  village  in  the 
hoop-pole  region  of  Indiana.  On  his  shoulders  were  the 
straps  of  a  second  lieutenant.  His  brand-new  uniform, 
faultless  in  cut  and  make,  fitted  him  '4ike  the  paper  on  the 
wall."  His  step  was  brisk,  and  he  cultivated  a  military 
air  with  untiring  assiduity.  His  padded  coat  bulged  out 
over  his  patriotic  bosom  like  the  mainsail  of  a  ship 
scudding  before  a  spanking  breeze ;  and  this  was  made  the 
more  conspicuous  by  his  extreme  ere6lness  of  carriage  as 
he  strutted  among  the  quiet  village  folk.  He  was  proud 
of  his  new  clothes,  with  their  shining  brass  buttons,  and 
proud  of  himself.  His  face  wore  a  fierce  and  sanguinary 
look,  as  if  he  chafed  under  the  restraint  which  kept  him 
beneath  peaceful  northern  skies.  His  eyes  seemed  longing 
to  gaze  upon  the  lurid  fiames  of  war.  Everybody  im- 
agined that  he  was  consuming  with  a  desire  to  rush  to  the 
front,  that  he  might  plunge  into  scenes  of  carnage. 

He  was  a  recruiting  officer. 

As  he  will  soon  disappear  from  the  narrative,  it  may  be 
remarked  here  that  he  did  not  want  to  wade  in  blood  half 
as  badly  as  people  thought  he  did,  nor,  quite  possibly,  as 
he  thought  himself.  He  had  no  occasion  to  invest  in 
rubber  boots  to  wear  on  the  battlefield.    He  did  not  get 


THE  VILLAGE  WONDER. 


SO  much  as  a  sniff  of  powder  in  a  state  of  violent  ^o?i3« 
bustion.  Before  the  regiment  was  organized  his  health 
suddenly  gave  way  and  he  resigned. 

But  at  this  time  he  appeared  the  very  embodiment  of 
martial  ardor — an  ideal  soldier.  The  simple-hearted  gray- 
beards  of  the  village  put  on  their  specftacles  to  look  at 
him ;  the  lasses  blushed  at  their  own  admiring  glances  as  he 
passed  in  his  ma- 
jestic splendor; 
the  young  men,  in 
jeans  and  home- 
spun, gazed  with 
•envy  upon  his 
symmetry  of 
shape  and  gor- 
geous apparel, 
and  wished  they 
might  be  like  him ; 
the  small  boys 
looked  upon  him 
Avith  unutterable 
awe,  and  trailed 
after  him  through 
the  streets  as 
though  he  v^ere 
the  drum -major 
of  a  brass  band. 

Such   was    the 
advent  of  the  re-  the  recruiting  officer. 

cruiting  officer  into  this  quiet  hamlet.  A  few  of  its  ready 
sons  had  gone  to  the  war  in  '61,  moved  by  the  mighty 
feeling  that  so  profoundly  stirred  the  north  after  the  fall 
Df  Sumter;  but  this  was  the  first  effort  there  to  raise  a 
::ompany,  under  the  great  call  for  volunteers  in  1862, 
pv^hich  seemed  to  say  to  every  one,  *'  Thou  art  the  man  !'* 

The  officer  procured  a  room  over  the  village  postoffice, 


PREPARING  TO   GATHER  THEM  IN.  3 

.and  hung  out  of  the  window  a  big  flag  that  brushed  the 
lieads  of  the  passers-by.  Buildings  and  fences  far  and  near 
were  decorated  with  flaming  posters,  which  set  forth  in 
istartHng  type  the  unequaled  advantages  guaranteed  to 
those  who  should  enlist  in  Company  Q  of  the  200th 
Indiana  regiment.  After  reading  the  placard  the  con- 
fiding youth  would  imagine  that  the  patriots  of  that 
company  would  always  have  carriages  to  ride  in  and 
feather  beds  to  sleep  on  ;  they  would  be  clad  in  purple  and 
fine  linen  and  fare  sumptuously  every  da}-,  with  cream  ir 
their  coflee  and  ''soft  bread "  all  the  year  round.  None  o*. 
ihem  would  get  hurt,  as  many  of  the  less  fortunate  soldieis 
did;  they  would  while  away  the  time  in  guarding  prisoners 
or  on  provost  or  headquarters  duty.  .  In  short,  Company 
Q  would  have^for  three  years  little  else  thdu  a  protracted 
picnic. 

This  was  the  alluring  idea  conveyed  by  the  posters  and 
the  advertisement  conspicuously  displayed  in  the  village 
paper.  The  worthy  editor,  who  believed  that  the  pen  was 
mightier  than  the  sword,  wrote  a  notice  highly  commend- 
ing the  smart  young  officer,  and  calling  attention  to  the 
rare  privileges  that  would  be  enjoyed  by  all  who  joined 
his  company.  Of  course,  he  knew  all  about  it  because  the 
smart  young  officer  told  him.  The  oracular  words  of  the 
-editor  were  not  without  effe(?t  in  stimulating  the  spirit  oi 
enlistment  in  the  village  and  the  region  round  about.  The 
grand  impulse  of  '61  had  spent  its  force  in  this  community' 
as  elsewhere,  and  a  little  urging  was  often  found  to  be  nec- 
essary. The  recruiting  officer  who  could  hold  out  the 
mcst  sedudlive  inducements  was  likely  to  reap  the  most 
abundant  harvest.  At  least  such  was  the  theory  that 
governed  recruitment  after  the  first  spontaneous  rush 
to  arms. 

Having  thus  adroitly  scattered  the  seed,  the  oflicer  hired 
a  fifer  and  drummer  to  stand  on  the  sidewalk  at  the  foot 
^of  the  stairs  and  play  ''Yankee  Doodle"  and  other  inspir- 


4  SI  KLEGG,    THE  FARMER  S  BOY. 

ing  tunes,  and  then  sat  down  in  his  office  to  gather  in  the 
crop.  As  soon  as  a  recruit  was  enlisted  he  was  arrayed  in 
ba^ofv  blue  clothes  and  sent  forth  as  a  missionary  to 
bring  in  others.  Under  all  these  favorable  conditions  the 
r-oU  of  Company  Q  lengthened  rapidly. 

One  day  while  this  was  going  on  Si  Klegg  drove  into 
the  village  with  a  lot  of  butter,  eggs  and  other  farm  truck, 
which  his  mother  had  commissioned  him  to  exchange  for 
(aundry  groceries  needed  to  replenish  the  larder  of  the  Klegg 
household.  He  was  a  red-cheeked,  chubby-faced  boy  who 
liad  some  distance  yet  to  go  before  getting  out  of  his  teens. 
He  had  worked  hard  ever  since  he  was  large  enough  to 
make  himself  useful.  The  demand  for  his  services  upon  the 
farm,  increasing  as  'he  grew  older,  had  confined  within 
narrow  limits  his  opportunities  for  education.  These  had 
not  gone  beyond  a  few  winters  at  the  "distridl  school.'" 
He  had  seen  nothing  of  the  great  world  that  lay  beyond 
the  bounds  of  his  immediate  neighborhood. 

Si  had  a  frenzied  attack  of  war  fever  in  '61,  when  the 
drums  beat  in  response  to  the  President's  first  call.  His 
parents  were  not  willing  that  he  should  go  on  account  of 
his  youth.  He  was  a  good  lad — his  father's  pride  and  his 
mother's  jo}'.  He  pleaded  that  the  w^ar  would  only  last  a 
few  weeks  and  that  his  whole  future  life  would  be  embit- 
tered by  the  thought  that  he  had  no  hand  in  it.  But  the 
parental  hpart  was  for  the  time  inexorable,  and  Si 
obediently  yielded,  secretly  indulging  the  hope,  however,, 
that  the  rebels  would  not  be  whipped  until  he  should  be 
old  enough  to  go. 

As  the  weeks  sped  awa^^  none  were  more  eager  than  he 
to  hear  the  news.  AYhen  he  read  of  a  little  skirmish  that 
had  resulted  favorably  to  the  Unior  troops  he  swung  his 
hat  and  shouted  with  the  rest ;  but  there  was  a  sinking  of 
his  heart,  because  he  thought  the  war  w^as  about  over  and 
he  was  going  to   ''get  left."      Then  when  he  heard  of 


RBC 


A   MALIGNANT   CASE   OF  WAR   FEVER. 


another  brush— people  called  them  all  battles  then— in 
which  half  a  dozen  Union  picktcs  had  been  captured,  he 
lamented  the  success  of  the  foes  o^  his  country,  but  his 
spirits  rose  as  he  thought  that  possibly,  after  all  he  might 
3^et  be  a  soldier  and  with  the  soldiers  stand;  a  knapsack  on 
liis  back  and  a  musket  in  his  hand. 

Then  when  the  President  called  for  three  hundred  thou- 
sand men  for  three  3'ears,  Si's  heart  gave  a  great  leap. 
Three     years     in 


■•  >m 


the  army  would 
just  suit  him;  and 
sureh^his  parents 
Avould  not  refuse 
now  that  the  de- 
mand was  so  ur- 
gent. Here-open- 
ed the  debate 
with  great  enthu- 
siasm ;  but  father 
and  mother  were 
still  inflexible, 
and  again  he  sub- 
mitted. He  did 
ihis  the  more  \vill- 
ingly  because  of 
liis  growing  belief 
that  the  affair 
vt^ould  not  blow 
over  in  a  few  days 
and  he  would  pa- 
tiently bide  his 
time  to  get  in. 
Si's  patriotic  emotions,  animated  by  th'^  fie^y  ardor  of 
y^outh,  bubbled  with  constantly  increasing  fury  in  his 
swelling  breast,  and  at  the  time  the  brass  buttons  of  the 


SI  KLEGG. 


6  A   TERRIBLE  TEMPTATION. 

recruiting  officer  twinkled  in  the  village  he  was  almost  at 
thp.  point  of  bursting.    In  his  fervid  zeal  he 

"  Scorned  the  lowing  cattle ; 
He  burned  to  wear  a  uniform, 

Hear  drums  and  see  a  battle." 

Such  was  Si's  mental  condition  when  he  drove  into 
town  that  day.  It  became  still  more  inflamed  when 
he  read  one  of  the  recruiting  oflScer's  big  posters;  and 
his  passionate  eagerness  almost  overcame  him  when 
two  or  three  of  his  friends  sauntered  up  in  full  uniform. 
He  felt  that  he  could  not  endure  the  pressure  muck 
longer. 

''Hello,  Si,"  said  one  of  the  military  fledgelings,  'Svhat 
d'ye  Stan'  there  gawpin'  at  that  han'bill  ler?  Why  don't 
ye  come  down  to  the  'cruitin'  office  an'  'list,  'long  with  the 
rest  o'  the  boys?" 

Si  had  never  in  his  life  wanted  half  so  badly  to  do  any- 
thing as  he  did  to  walk  straight  to  where  the  flag  was- 
flying  and  the  fife  and  drum  playing,  sign  his  name  to  the- 
roll  of  Company  Q,  and  get  inside  of  a  blouse  and  sky-blue 
trousers.  He  had  more  than  half  a  mind  to  carry  out  his. 
ardent  impulse  at  once  and  take  the  chances  on  his  action 
being  ratified  by  the  home  authorities. 

**I  want  ter  jine  yer  comp'ny  mighty  bad  but — " 

Si  had  not  the  heart  to  finish  the  sentence.  His  thoughts 
might  have  been  easily  read  in  his  eyes  as  he  gazed  long- 
ingly at  the  bright  brass  buttons  on  the  clothes  of  his 
friends  and  the  nodding  plumes  that  decorated  their 
enormous  hats. 

'"Fore  I'd  be  tied  to  my  mammy's  apum  string!"  was 
the  derisive  reply.  "Why  don't  ye  be  a  man!  All  the 
boys  is  goin',  an'  ye  don't  want  ter  stay  behind  fer  the 
gals  to  p'int  their  fingers  at  and  say  ye  w^as  'fraid  ter 
go.  Come  'long,  an'  never  mind  yer  dad  an'  the  old 
woman!" 


EARLY  EVIDENCE  OF  "GRIT."  7 

**Look  a-here,  Bill,"  and  Si  began  to  show  symptoms  of 
a  furious  eruption,  "you  'n'  me  has  alius  bin  good  friends; 
but  if  you  say  'nother  word  agin  me  er  my  father  'n^ 
mother  ye  won't  have  ter  wait  t'll  ye  git  down  among  the 
seceshers— if  ye  ever  do  git  thar — to  have  the  biggest  kind 
of  a  fight.  One  er  t'other  on  us  '11  git  the  all-firedest  Hckin*^ 
ye  ever  heern  tell  of  P'r'aps  ye'U  find  out  that  ef  I  ain't 
a  very  big  pertater  I'm  kind  o'  hard  to  peel.  I  ain't  no 
coward.  I'm  goin'  ter  try  'n'  git  inter  this  comp'ny.  I 
don't  b'lieve  in  braggin',  but  ef  I  do  go  with  ye,  ye'll  never 
git  court-martialed  fer  hangin'  back  er  runnin'  the  wrong 
way  ef  ye  jest  keep  right  up  'longside  o'  Si  Klegg!" 

It  may  be  fairly  said  that  the  circumstances  justified  the 
warmth  and  earnestness  of  Si's  manner.  Involuntarily 
his  fat  fists  clenched,  and  he  assumed  an  attitude  of  hos- 
tility that  alarmed  his  comrade.  The  latter  prudently 
retired  out  of  range. 

"Ye  don't  need  ter  git  spunky  'bout  it,  Si,"  he  said  from 
a  safe  distance.  "Ye  know  I  didn't  mean  nothin'.  Ye'd 
make  a  bully  soljer,  an'  the  boys  'd  like  fust  rate  to  have 
ye  'long.  Comp'ny  Q  's  goin'  ter  have  a  soft  thing,  'cause 
the  officer  says  he's  got  it  all  fixed.  She's  a-fillin'  up  purty 
fast,  an'  we're  goin'  ter  leave  in  a  few  days,  so  ye'll  have 
ter  hustle  'round !" 

'*I  don't  know  ner  care  nothin'  'bout  the  easy  time  ye 
sayye're  goin' ter  have.  Ef  I  knowed  Comp'ny  Q  wouldn't 
never  do  nothin'  but  stay  back  in  the  rear  I'd  jine  some 
other  rijiment.  Ef  I'm  goin'  ter  be  a  soljer  I  want  ter  be 
one  'n'  do  suthin'  more'n  strut  'round  in  a  uniform.  But 
I  reckon  as  how  Comp'ny  Q  '11  have  ter  take  its  chances 
'long  with  the  rest." 

Si  wanted  to  go  down  to  the  headquarters  but  he 
scarcely  dared  trust  himself  to  do  so.  He  feared  that  the 
temptation  to  "jine"  w^ould  be  stronger  than  his  power 
of  resistance.    Just  at  that  critical  moment  the  fife  and 


8  SI  IS  SWEPT   OFF  HIS  FEET, 

drum  struck  up  a  lively  air  and  that  settled  it.    His  friends 
were  already  on  the  way  to  the  recruiting  office. 

"Hold  up,"  shouted  Si,  "I'm  goin'  that  wa^^"  and  he 
started  after  them  at  a  brisk  pace. 

"I  thought  ye'd  come  to  it,"  said  one  of  them,  as  they 
stopped  for  him  to  join  them. 

"I  sha'n't  'list  to-day,"  replied  Si,  "I  jest  thought  I'd 
look  in  thar  'n'  see  what's  goin'  on." 

The  truth  is  that,  notwithstanding  this  positive  declara- 
tion, he  "felt  it  in  his  bones  "  that  he  would  go  home  that 
afternoon  wearing  blue  clothes.  He  was  badly  broken 
up  when  he  thought  of  the  consternation  that  he  was 
sure  his  appearance  at  the  old  farm  in  the  garb  of  a 
soldier  would  produce.  He  did  not  want  to  enlist 
without  parental  consent,  as  he  had  promised,  and  he 
kept  trying  to  make  himself  believe  that  he  was  nol 
going  to.  His  conscience  told  him  that  he  ought  to 
turn  around  and  go  to  his  wagon  and  drive  straight 
home,  but  the  magnet  that  was  drawing  him  along 
in  spite  of  himself  was  irresistible  He  couldn't  help 
it;  he  had  to  go.  His  feet  caught  the  step  of  the  drum- 
taps  and  he  marched  to  what  he  felt  would  be  his  fate, 
borne  along  by  a  tide  of  emotions  as  resistless  as  the 
flood  of  a  raging  river. 

The  discordant  sound  of  the  squeaky  fife  and  rattling 
drum  was  the  sweetest  music  that  had  ever  greeted  the 
ears  of  Si  Klegg.  He  mingled  in  the  crowd  of  old  and 
3"Oung  that  stood  around  the  musicians  talking  about 
the  war  —  the  one  subject  that  was  first  upon  every 
tongue.  ThcA^  all  knew  Si,  and  again  and  again  he  was 
asked  if  he  was  going  to  enlist.  He  could  not  sa^^  no  and 
he  dared  not  say  yes,  although  he  felt  away  down  in  his 
heart  that  there  were  nineteen  chances  out  of  twenty  that 
within  the  next  thirt\^  minutes  there  would  be  another 
"K"  added  to  the  roll  of  Company  Q,  and  he  would  be 
tr^ang  on  his  regimentals. 


AND   CARRIED   OYER  THE  DAM. 


The  only  thing  that  prevented  Si  from  rushing  at  once 
into  the  presence  of  the  recruiting  officer  was  the  ever 
haunting  thought  of  father  and  mother.  He  tried 
to  argue  himself  into  the  belief  that  his  duty  to  his 
country  vs^as  first,  and  that  in  responding  to  her  call  in 
the  time  of  her  extremity  he  was  doing  no  violence  to  the 
fifth  commandment.  Aided  by  the  persuasive  influences 
that  surrounded  him,  he  so  far  succeeded  in  quieting  his 


STIMULATING  VILLAGE   PATRIOTISM. 


•conscience  that  when  one  of  his  companions,  Avho  was  in 
a  similar  state  of  mind,  said  to  him,  "I'll  'list  if  you  will," 
Si  replied,  "Come  on,"  and  started  at  once  up  the  stairs. 
The  flood  had  carried  him  completelj-  over  the  dam. 

A  moment  later  Si  stood,  with  his  hat  under  his  arm,  in 
the  presence  of  the  recruiting  officer.  Dazzled  b}^  the 
splendor  of  his  appearance.  Si  shrank  back  abashed  for  a 
moment.     The  officer  was  busily  engaged  in  superintend- 


10  HE  SIGNS  THE  ROLL  OF  COMPANY  Q. 

ing  the  efforts  of  two  or  three  recruits  to  fit  themselves  out 
of  an  assortment  of  army  clothing  that  lay  scattered 
about  the  room.  Si  had  a  chance  to  recover  and  brace 
himself  for  the  trying  ordeal. 

"Ah,  my  man,"  said  the  lieutenant,  extending  his  hand 
to  Si,  "you've  come  to  join  my  company,  haven't  3^ou? 
You  do  not  need  to  answer,  for  I  know  it  by  your  looks. 
You'll  make  a  splendid  soldier,  too— just  the  sort  of  brave 
fellows  we  want.  Walk  right  up  to  the  table  and  sign 
your  name.  We're  going  to  have  the  finest  company  that 
ever  left  the  state." 

"Say,  mister,  I  jest  wants  ter  ax  ye  ef  a  feller  kin  git  out 
agin  ef  he  has  ter  arter  he's  jined." 

At  the  last  moment  a  sense  of  his  filial  obligations 
prompted  Si  to  provide,  if  possible,  for  keeping  open  a  line 
of  retreat.  Fearful  lest  his  motive  might  be  misconstrued, 
however,  he  hastily  added : 

"'Tain't  'cause  I  wants  ter  back  out,  fer  I  don't;  but 
ye  see  I'm  'feard  pap  '11  kick.  He  made  me  promise  I 
wouldn't  'list  'less  he  was  willin',  'n'  I  know  he  aint." 

"Oh,  that  '11  be  all  right,"  said  the  officer.  "We'll  fetch 
the  old  man  around  easy  enough.  You  put  your  name 
right  down  and  get  your  uniform  on.  When  he  sees  how^ 
fine  you  look  he'll  pat  you  on  the  head  and  tell  you 
to  go  right  along  like  a  man  and  fight  for  your  bleeding 
country." 

"  Gimme  the  pen  'n'  I'll  chance  it." 

Si  sat  down  to  the  table  and  with  much  effort  succeeded 
in  producing  his  autograph  on  the  roll  of  Company  Q.  His 
heart  thumped  violently  as  he  looked  at  his  name  and  began 
to  realize  that  he  was  going  to  be  a  soldier.  It  is  true  that 
the  chickens  he  w^as  counting  were  not  yet  fully  hatched, 
for  he  could  not  rid  himself  of  the  vague  fear  that  there 
would  be  trouble  at  the  farm-house.  But  he  persuaded 
himself  that  it  would  end  as  he  so  fervently  desired ;  and 


11 

when  he  arose  he  felt  that  he  was  taller  by  a  foot  than 
when  he  entered  the  room. 

''Now,  Mr.  Klegg,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "just  step  into 
that  room  and  let  the  doctor  examine  you." 

''What's  that  fer ?"  asked  Si. 

"To  see  if  you  are  sound  and  able  to  discharge  the  duties 
of  a  soldier." 

"The  dodlor  '11  only  be  wastin'  his  time  'zaminin'  me," 
replied  Si.     "I'm  sound  's  a  hicker'-nut." 

"No  doubt  of  it;  but  the  army  regulations  require  it, 
and  we  have  to  obey  them,  you  know." 

Si  had  a  foggy  idea  that  obedience  was  one  of  the  car- 
dinal virtues  of  a  good  soldier,  and  without  further  objec- 
tion he  passed  into  the  apartment,  where  the  village 
dodlor,  duly  invested  with  the  proper  authority,  was 
inspe(fting  the  physical  condition  and  "prior  soundness'^ 
of  those  who  w^ere  about  to  enter  the  military  service. 

"Now,  young  man,  strip  yourself,"  said  the  dodlor,  in  a 
business-like  way,  when  Si's  turn  came. 

It  seemed  to  Si  that  there  was  a  good  deal  of  foolishness 
about  such  a  performance.  The  doctor  evidently  shared 
this  opinion  as  he  looked  upon  the  robust  form  and  well- 
turned  limbs  of  the  farmer-boy.  A  single  glance  told  his 
experienced  eye  that  Si  would  fill  the  bill.  He  passed  his 
hands  over  the  limbs  of  the  recruit,  looked  at  his  feet, 
drummed  on  his  chest  and  ribs,  and  then  pressed  his  ear 
against  his  breast. 

"Your  heart  beats  a  little  hard  and  rapidly,"  said  the 
dodlor,  "but  I  guess  it's  only  because  you're  a  bit  excited. 
I  think  you'll  do,  my  lad,  and  I'm  greatly  mistaken  if  you 
do  not  make  a  good,  brave  soldier.  Just  one  thing  more,  let 
me  see  your  teeth." 

Si  thought  it  was  very  much  as  if  he  was  a  colt  and 
somebody  wanted  to  buy  him.  But  he  was  pleased  with 
the  dodlor's  verdict,  and  only  said  with  a  laugh : 

"I  don't  see  what  teeth  's  got  ter  do  'th  bein'  a  soljer.'^ 


12 


SI  PUTS  ON   A  UNIFORM. 


'*  You  will  be  wiser  after  a  time,  my  young  friend/'  said 
the  do6lor  with  a  smile.  "You  will  find  good  teeth  very 
useful  in  biting  cartridges  and  chewing  hardtack." 

''What's  hardtack?"  said  Si,  his  face  not  less  than  his 
-words  betokening  his  curiosity. 

''Oh,  that's  what  the  soldiers  call  the  bread  they  get  in 
the  army.  But  you  hadn't  better  ask  any  more  questions ; 
you'll  know  all  about  it  in  a  little  while." 

"Nice  boy !"  the  dodlor  said  to  the  lieutenant.  "A  little 
too  much  flesh  just  nOw,  but  a  few  weeks  of  active  cam- 
paigning will  bring  him  down  to  good  marching  weight. 
I'd  like  to  be  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  such  fellows." 

"You  can  put  these  on  if  jou 
like,  Mr.  Klegg,"  said  the  offi- 
cer, handing  him  a  pair  of  pants 
and  a  blouse.  "I  guess  thc}- 
are  about  your  size." 

No  five-year-old  boy  was  ever 
prouder  when  he  laid  aside  his 
pinafore  and  donned  his  first 
pair  of  breeches  than  was  Si 
when  he  arrayed  himself  in  the 
habiliments  of  a  soldier.  It 
mattered  little  that  the  trou- 
were  several  inches  too 
and  the  blouse  so  small 
that  it  embraced  him  like  a 
corset.  As  hise^^es  feasted  upon 
the  blue  garments  and  the  bur- 
nished brass  buttons,  his  fear? 
all  gave  way  before  the  con- 
fident belief  that  his  appearance 
"would  sweep  aside  all  the  objections  of  his  father  an(* 
mother  and  sister  Maria  and  pretty  Annabel,  the  neig^^ 
bor's  daughter. 


sers 
long. 


AN  AVERAGE  ARMY  "FIT.' 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Commotion  at  the  Farm-House,  Caused  by  Si's  Appearance  m 
UxiFORM— The  Conflict  Between  Mars  and  Venus. 

WHEN  Si  Klegg  left  the  recruiting  office  and  tripped 
gayly  down  the  stairs  with  his  farm  clothes  in  a 
bundle  under  his  arm,  he  was  greeted  with  loud  cheers  by 
the  crowd  on  the  sidewalk.  He  was  a  favorite  in  the  cal- 
lage, where  he  had  been  known  from  a  child.  The  people 
thronged  about  him  and  took  him  by  the  hand,  all  uniting 
in  the  cordially  expressed  hope  that  he  would  ''come  out 
all  right."  No  one  had  any  fear  that  he  woidd  make  other 
than  an  honorable  record. 

B\^  this  time  the  day  was  well  spent,  and  Si  began  to 
think  about  getting  home.  A  cloud  of  seriousness  crept 
over  his  face  as  he  wondered  what  his  "folks  "  would  say 
and  do.  His  first  impulse  w^as  to  go  into  somebody's  bam 
and  change  his  clothes,  to  relieve  the  surprise  of  its  sud- 
denness. He  thought  it  might  be  better  to  go  home  in  his 
accustomed  garments  and  then,  by  clever  diplomacy-,  let 
the  cat  out  of  the  bag  little  by  liftle.  The  effect  would  be 
less  startling  than  if  she  jumped  out  all  at  once.  Then  came 
the  thought  that  this  would  be  cowardly,  and  he  at  once  re- 
solved to  go  right  ahead  and  face  the  music  like  a  man. 
He  believed  he  was  not  afraid  to  meet  rebels  with  guns  in 
their  hands,  and  surely  he  must  not  quail  before  his  father 
and  mother  and  sister  Maria. 

''I'll  lay  the  gad  on  the  old  mare,  too !  "  he  said  to  him- 
self, half  aloud.     "I'm  irx  fer  it,  'n'  the  sooner  the  thing's 


14  MEETING  THE  RUGGED  ISSUE. 

over  with  the  better.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  go  sneakin'  ^n* 
beatin '  'round  the  bush,  nuther !  " 

Si  w-as  soon  on  his  way.  His  activit}^  in  the  use  of  the 
*'gad"  produced  a  degree  of  speed  that  the  mare,  who  was 
in  the  sear  and  yellow  leaf  of  her  existence,  only  attained 
on  extraordinary  occasions.  She  laid  back  her  ears  and 
forged  ahead,  as  if  conscious  that  something  of  unusual 
importance  was  in  the  wind. 

It  was  onl}^  a  couple  of  miles  from  the  village  totheKlegg 
farm,  and  the  ride  took  but  twent^^  minutes.  As  Si  neared 
the  house  he  drew  rein  that  he  might,  if  possible,  calm  his 
agitation.  His  heart  beat  fast  at  the  thought  of  meeting 
liis  mother — and  then  of  bidding  her  good-b^^e  to  march 
away  to  the  war.  He  had  not  realized  before  how  hard 
this  would  be. 

Looking  away  he  saw  his  father  slowly  coming  from  his 
toil  in  a  distant  field.  The  story  of  the  Prodigal  Son 
came  up  before  him.  While  he  could  not  admit  the  justice 
of  comparing  himself  to  the  wayward  wanderer,  yet  at 
that  moment  he  would  have  given  the  world,  had  he 
possessed  it,  to  be  assured  that  his  father  would  receive 
liim  as  the  father  in  the  parable  received  the  son  who  ' '  was 
lost  and  is  found."  Si  had  not  intended  to  beundutiful,  or 
to  do  auA^thing  wrong. 

Turning  his  eyes  and  looking  through  the  soft,  shadowy 
twilight  that  was  already  falling,  he  saw  his  sister  coming 
slowly  up  the  lane  with  the  cows.  Again  his  heart 
throbbed  wildly.  He  had  not  thought  what  it  would  be 
to  leave  her  v^hose  loving  companionship  had  been  a  part 
of  his  daily  existence.  How  her  heart  would  ache  when 
he  should  be  far  away  amidst  scenes  of  hardship,  suffering 
-and  death. 

Such  a  moment  had  never  come  to  Si  as  that  when  he 
alighted  from  the  wagon,  took  his  parcels  in  his  arms,  and 
walked  toward  the  house.  With  a  mighty  effort  to  con- 
trol his  feelings  he  opened  the  door  and  entered.  He  passed 


A  mother's  struggle.  15 

directly  to  the  kitchen,  where  he  knew  he  would  find 
his  mother  engaged  in  the  preparation  of  the  evening 
meal. 

'*  Mother,  "he  said — and  he  knew  that  his  voice  was  trem- 
ulous, hard  as  hetried  to  keep  it  steady — ''I've  brought  you 
the  things  you  wanted  from  the  store." 

She  was  busy  at  her  work,  with  her  face  from  him.  For 
a  moment  she  did  not  look  at  him,  only  remarking,  with 
a  sl^de  of  anxiet}'  in  her  gentle  tones : 

''You've  been  gone  a  long  time,  Josiah.  I've  looked  for 
3'ou  these  two  hours.  What's  goin'  on  in  the  village  ?  Any 
news  from  the  w^ar?" 

"Alother!" 

None  but  a  mother  can  know  what  was  in  that  word 
as  it  fell  from  the  lips  of  Si.  Her  maternal  instinct  told 
her,  quick  as  the  lightning's  flash,  that  she  must  make 
the  sacrifice  that  thousands  of  mothers  had  made  before 
her.  The  knife  dropped  from  her  trembling  hand.  For 
an  instant  she  stood,  with  face  still  averted,  as  if  to 
gather  strength  for  the  trial  which  she  had  long  felt 
she  must  face  sooner  or  later.  Day  and  night  she  had 
prayed  that  the  cup  might  pass  from  her.  It  had  come, 
and  in  that  moment  she  resolved,  with  the  spirit  of 
the  mothers  of  Sparta,  to  meet  it  with  a  patriot's 
devotion. 

Then  she  turned  and  cast  a  look  of  unutterable  tender- 
ness upon  her  bo^^  alread}^  a  soldier.  He  sprang  toward 
her  and  she  folded  him  in  her  arms.  Tears  trickled  from 
the  eyes  of  both.  Their  hearts  were  too  full  for  words. 
As  her  soft  kisses  fell  like  a  benediction  on  brow  and 
cheek.  Si  felt  that  his  mother  was  tenfold  dearer  than 
€ver  before. 

"My  son,"  she  said,  "I  feel  that  it  is  right.  You  cannot 
know  how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  say  that.  But  it  is  duty 
that  calls,  and  I'm  proud  of  ye  for  bein'  so  brave  aad 
manly.     I  knew  ye'd  be  goin'  one  o'  these  days,  an'  I'd 


J6 


THE  BATTLE  HALF  WON. 


kinder    got    1113'  mind    made  up  to  it;     but    it    aint   an 

easy  thing  for  a  mother  to   send    her  only  boy   off  ta 

war." 

''But — father — "  said  Si,  inquiringly. 

''Father  won't  be  hard  on  ye,  Si,"  she  replied.     "We've 

talked  it  over  many  an  hour  when  ye've  been  asleep,  an' 

he  feels  a  good  deal 
like  I  do.  I  guess 
he'd  a  leetle  ra1;her 
you'd  spoke  to  him 
'bout  it  'fore  ye'  list- 
ed, but  if  I  don't 
mistake  he'll  give  ye 
his  blessin'  an'  tell 
ye  to  go  an'  do  yer 
duty  like  a  hero,  just 
as  I  know  ye  will." 
The  outer  door 
i  opened  and  a  famil- 
iar step  was  heard 
in  the  adjoining 
room. 

"Stay  here  a  mo- 
ment, Si,"  said  his 
mother,  as  she  has- 
tily withdrew  her 
arms  from  him  and 
brushed  away  her 
tears.  "Let  me  say 
a   word    to    father 

SI  AND  HIS   MOTHER.  firSt   ' ' 

Si  still  dreaded  to  meet  his  fathei,  although  this  feeling 
had  yielded  in  some  measure  before  the  loving  words  of  his 
mother.  His  heart  filled  with  gratitude  to  her  for  the  deli- 
cate tadl  which  prompted  her  to  shield  him  from  a  possible 
harsh  word. 


THE  VICTORY   COMPLETE.  17 

*' Thank  ye,  mother!"  he  faltered. 

"Father,"  she  said,  as  she  went  in  to  meet  her  husbjand. 
She  was  trying  to  control  herself,  but  her  trembling  lip 
and  misty  ej^es  betrayed  the  emotions  she  could  not 
conceal. 

"Why,  mother,"  he  interrupted,  "what's  the  matter? 
Anything  gone  wrong  to-day  ?  Hasn't  Si  got  back  from 
town?" 

"Yes,  Si's  here— but— he's  got  a  new  suit  o'  clothes  on— 
and  they're  blue  I  Now,  father,  I  told  him  you  Avouldn't 
be  hard  on  him,  an'  I  know  ye  w^on't.  He's  my  boy  as 
much  as  yours,  an'  if  I  can  bear  it  you  can." 

For  a  moment  he  did  not  speak;  a  shade  passed  over 
his  face,  but  it  gradually  melted  away  before  the  pleading 
gaze  of  the  wife  and  mother.     Then  he  said : 

"You  know  we've  been  expectin'  it,  mother,  for  a  good 
while.  Si  haint  said  much  'bout  it  lately,  but  it  was  plain 
to  see  that  he%^as  just  achin'  to  go  all  the  time.  If  we  had 
half  a  dozen  other  bo^-s  it  wouldn't  be  any  easier  to  let 
him  go ;  but  we  could  get  along  better  without  him  than 
we  can  bein'  as  he's  the  only  one.  If  he'd  waited  till  I'd 
ha'  give  my  consent  I  reck'n  he  wouldn't  ha'  gone  at  all, 
for  I  don't  b'lieve  I  could  ha'  made  up  my  mind  to  saj^  he 
might  jine  the  army.  But  it  looks  's  though  they'd  need 
all  the  men  the}-  can  git  'fore  they  bring  them  seceshers  to 
their  senses,  an' I  persumewe'd  ought  terbe  willin'to  let  Si 
go  an'  help  'em.  Lookin'  at  it  on  all  sides  I  guess  it  was  best 
for  him  to  'list  in  the  way  he  did,  'cause  as  I  was  sayin',  I 
couldn't  ha'  screwed  myself  up  to  the  point  o'  telHn'him  he 
might." 

A  glad  smile,  though  it  was  not  without  a  tinge  of  sad- 
ness, lighted  up  the  countenance  of  Si's  mother.  With  the 
sacrificing  heroism  that  so  grandly  characterized  the 
women  of  that  time,  she  had  fully  accepted  the  truth  that 
she  must  give  up  her  boy.  She  knew  that  his  heart,  like 
her  own,  was  full  almost  to  bursting,  and  she  rejoiced  to 


18  A  father's  blessing. 

know  that  he  would  not  have  to  bear  the  added  burden  of 
a  father's  displeasure. 

*^  Josiah,  come  here !  " 

Si  had  stood  trembling  where  his  mother  left  him,  during 
the  interview  between  his  parents.  He  could  not  hear  the 
words,  but  the  tones  of  his  father's  voice  were  not  those 
of  an  angry  man,  and  he  felt  that  if  he  had  done  wrong  he 
would  be  forgiven.  When  his  father  called  him  his  hand 
was  already  upon  the  latch.  Quickly  opening  the  door  he 
advanced  to  meet  the  outstretched .  arms  of  his  father. 
Tears  that  v^^ere  not  unmanly  dimmed  the  e\^es  and  wetted 
the  brown  cheeks  of  the  old  farmer  as  he  folded  his  boy  to 
his  breast. 

''I  aint  goin'  to  say  a  word  agin  it,  Si,"  he  said,  after  a 
lonof  embrace.  "Other  folks  has  to  let  their  bovs  o^o,  an'  I 
musn't  think  I'm  better  'n  an^^body  else.  But  it  makes  me 
feel  like  a  baby  to  think  of  ye  goin'  down  'mong  the  soljers 
an'  likely 's  not  we  shan't  never "  * 

"Don't,  father,"  said  his  wife,  genth^  "we  musn't  talk 
of  that  now.  If  I  didn't  believe  God  'd  let  Si  come  back  to 
us,  I  couldn't  let  him  go  ;  that  'd  be  askin'  too  much." 

"Well,  well,  dear,  I  couldn't  help  thinkin'  what  a  dan- 
gerous place  it  is  down  there,  an'  how  many  other  people's 
boys  wont  never  see  home  agin.  There's  jest  one  thing  I 
want  to  say  to  ye,  Si.  Ye  know  somethin'  'bout  how  dear 
ye  are  to  me— I  don't  need  to  tell  ye  that — but  I'd  a  hun- 
derd  times  rather  ye'd  get  killed  when  ye  v^as  standin' 
up  to  your  duty  like  a  brave  soljer,  an'  be  buried  with 
nothin'  but  a  blanket  'round  ye,  than  to  hear  anybody 
say  that  my  boy  was  a  coward.  But  I  aint  afeard  that 
we'll  ever  be  'shamed  of  ye.  Si.  Mother,  hadn't  we  better 
have  supper?" 

"Why,  bless  me,  if  I  didn't  forgit  all  'bout  supper! "  ex- 
claimed the  good  woman,  as  she  started  for  the  kitchen, 
"but  Si  comin'  in  so  sudden  with  them  soljer  clothes  on. 


THE   YOUNG  SOLDIER  AND  HIS  SISTER.  19 

jest  Upset  me  an'  driv  all  thoughts  o'  cookin'  clean  out  o' 
my  head." 

When  she  reached  the  culinary  department  she  found 
things  in  a  disastrous  plight.  The  potatoes  in  the  oven 
were  baked  to  a  crisp,  the  pork  in  the  spider  had  fried  to 
cinders,  and  the  teakettle  was  boiling  over  with  great  fury, 
emitting  a  volume  of  steam  that  filled  the  room.  Mrs. 
Klegg  had  to  begin  all  over  again. 

It  was  a  matter  of  small  concern  to  Si  whether  he  had 
any  supper  at  all  or  not.  A  great  load  had  been  lifted 
from  his  heart.  At  last  his  ambition  was  to  be  realized. 
In  a  few  days  he  would  march  away  to  the  field  of  glory, 
and  he  would  go  with  his  mother's  prayers  and  his  father's 
blessing.  It  was  the  happiest  moment  he  had  ever  known. 
His  fervent  imagination  saw  only  the  lights  of  an  untried 
life.  None  of  its  deep  shadows  darkened  the  picture  that 
his  fancy  painted. 

''Father,"  he  said,  ''I'll  go  out  'n'  tell  Marier  the  news 
'n'  then  I'll  help  ye  do  the  chores." 

"Sister  Marier,"  a  rosy  lass,  two  years  older  than  Si, 
was  coming  from  the  barnyard  with  a  pail  of  milk  in 
either  hand.  As  she  bent  beneath  the  load  her  eyes  were 
upon  the  ground,  and  she  did  not  observe  the  approach  of 
Si  through  the  gathering  dusk  until  he  said,  in  a  cheerfu) 
tone: 

"Let  me  carry  'em  fer  ye,  Marier." 

"That  you,  Si?"  she  said,  as  she  raised  her  eyes. 

In  an  instant  the  pails  dropped  from  her  grasp  and  the 
milk}^  flood  inundated  the  ground  at  their  feet.  Raising  hei 
hands  in  surprise,  she  exclaimed  : 

"For  the  land's  sake.  Si,  what  are  ye  doin'  with  them 
clothes  on?  Borrered  'em  from  one  o'  the  boys,  didn't  ye, 
to  see  how  ye'd  look  in  'em  ?" 

"  These  clothes  is  mine.    I'm  a  soljer  now !" 

"What,  you?"  Then  as  the  truth  burst  upon  her  she 
added,    in    a    tone    that    touched    his    heart,    "Oh,   Si!" 


20 


AFFECTION  S   SORE   TRIAL. 


Circling  her  arms  about  his  neck,  her  feelings  found  vent  in 
a  flood  of  tears. 

Si  felt  that  he  was  having  a  rather  sloppv  time  of  it, 
and  he  was  realh'  glad  that  the  family  was  no  larger,  and 
that  he  had  now  got  around.  Yet  his  experience  during 
the  half  hour  since  he  reached  home  had  been  to  him  in  the 
nature  of  a  revelation.  There  had  been  nothing  in  the 
e  very-day  farm  life  of  the  famil^^  to  test  the  strength  of  the 

cord  that  bound 
them  together.  Si 
supposed,  as  a 
matter  of  course, 
that  his  father  and 
mother  and  sister 
loved  him,  as  it 
was  their  dutv  to 
do.  He  had  al- 
ways been  con- 
scious of  a  recipro- 
city of  feeling  to- 
ward them.  Now 
he  knew,  as  never 
before, how  strong 
are  the  ties  of  af- 
fection, and  how 
heavih^  falls  the 
blow  that  severs 
them. 

*' There,  don't  cry  any  more,  sister,"  he  said,  kissing  her 
tenderl3^  ''You  know  I  couldn't  help  doin'  it.  But'  I 
made  ye  spill  all  the  milk  'n'  I'll  go  down  'n'  pump  some 
fer  supper.  S'pose  I'll  have  to  git  'long  without  milk  in  the 
army,  'n'  I'd  better  fill  up  while  I've  got  a  chance." 

There  were  some  of  the  cows  whose  lacteal  foun- 
tains had  not  been  drawn  upon,  so  that  the  catas- 
trophe   that    had    befallen    Maria    promised    to    result 


CALAMITOUS  EFFECT  OF  THE  NEWS  UPON 
"sister  MARIER." 


THE  CUPBOARD  UNLOCKED.  21 

no  more  seriously  than  to  make  the  next  ** churning"  a 
trifle  short. 

"Well,  old  Brindle,  don't  ye  wish  you  was  me?"  ex- 
claimed Si,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  spirits.  **H'ist,  there, 
why  don't  ye!  Now,  so.  Bossy,  so!"  and  he  \\^as  soon 
iiilking  away  with  all  his  might,  singing  to  himself: 

•'  We  are  coming,  Father  Abraham,  three  hundred  thousand  more." 

''That's  so,"  he  soliloquized,"  'n'  I'm  one  o'  them  bully 
three  hunderd  thousan'.  Yes,  Father  Abraham,  Si  Klegg's 
comin'.  Jest  have  the  army  wait  t'll  he  gits  thar  'n'  then 
ye  can  drive  ahead." 

When  Si  entered  the  house  with  brimming  pail  he 
found  supper  waiting.  Mother  and  sister  greeted  him 
with  fond  looks  and  gentle  words.  The\^  had  placed  upon 
the  table  everj^  delicacy'  that  the  house  afforded.  Jars  and 
cans,  such  as  hitherto  had  only  been  brought  forth  on 
state  occasions,  were  opened  and  their  contents  dished  out 
with  a  prodigality^  that  under  any  other  circumstances- 
would  have  been  amazing. 

A  thrifty  housewife  is  moved  bj-  an  impulse  of  no  ordin- 
ary magnitude  when  she  scatters  her  precious  jellies  and 
preserves  and  pickles  and  things  in  such  reckless  profu- 
sion. If  Si  had  stopped  to  think  of  this  he  would  have 
needed  no  stronger  evidence  of  the  place  he  held  in  the 
estimation  of  at  least  the  female  members  of  the  famih^ 

"Si  always  did  like  these  little  knick-knacks  so,"  his 
mother  said  to  Maria,  "an'  goodness  knows  he  won't 
have  any  of  'em  down  there.  Whatsomever  's  in  this  house 
is  his  's  long  's  he's  here.  I'd  jest  enj'y  seein'  him  eat  up 
the  last  bit  of  'em.  If  any  comp'ny  comes  they  can  go 
without." 

Meanwhile,  "Father"  had  come  in  from  his  "chores," 
and  the  four  sat  down  to  the  evening  meal.  Thrice  each 
day  for  many  a  year  the^^— father,  mother,  sister,  brother 
—had  gathered  around  that  table,  but  never  before  had 


22  SI  TELLS  HOW  IT  HAPPENED. 

there  been  such  an  all-pervading  spirit  of  gentleness  and 
affection.  The  very  air  seemed  fragrant  with  the  incense 
from  those  loving  hearts.  The  little  spark  had  kindled 
into  a  fierce  flame  the  latent  fires  of  love  in  the  breasts  of 
that  household. 

The  sudden  rush  of  feeling  had  subsided,  giving  way  to  a 
calm  determination  to  make  the  best  of  the  situation. 
Gradually  the  members  of  the  little  group  regained  a 
measure  of  their  wonted  cheerfulness.  Si's  elastic  spirits 
rebounded  the  instant  the  pressure  upon  them  was 
relaxed. 

''You  haven't  told  us  yet  how  you  came  to  'list,"  said 
his  mother,  as  she  heaped  again  with  preserves  a  dish  that 
he  had  already  emptied. 

This  started  Si's  tongue,  and  he  rattled  off  the  storA^  of 
the  day's  adventures. 

''I'll  tell  ye  how  'twas,"  he  said.  "I  druv  straightwise 
to  the  store  and  done  all  the  arrands  ye  wanted  me  to. 
Then  I  thought  I'd  look  'round  a  bit  'fore  I  vStarted  hum. 
I  heerd  right  awa^^  thar  was  a  'cruitin'  ossifer  'n  town.  I 
tell  ye  he's  a  daisy,  too ;  must  be  a  big  gin'ral  er  suthin' 
like  that.  I  seen  lots  o'  the  bo3^s  that  had  'listed  walkin' 
'round  with  their  uniforms  on.  Some  on  'em  told  me  I'd 
better  jine  if  I  didn't  want  ter  be  grafted,  as  they  was 
goin'  ter  begin  graftin'  purt}^  soon.  There  was  a  fife  'n' 
drum  a-playin'  at  the  'cruitin'  oflice,  'n'  when  I  heerd  'em  I 
jest  had  to  go  down.  There  was  a  crowd  there,  and  everj^- 
body  was  a-cheerin'  'n'shoutin'  'n'  the  flag  was  a-fl^nn'.  I 
kep'  sayin'  to  myself  I  wouldn't  jine  till  I'd  been  hum  'n' 
axed  ye  agin ;  but  while  I  was  stan'in'  thar  Tommj^  Smith 
says  to  me,  sa^^s  he,  'Si,  I'll  dar'  ye  to  'list;  ef  you  will  I 
will.'  I  says,  'Tom,  who's  afeard?' — jest  that  way. 
*  'Tain't  me,'  says  I,  '  'n'  if  you  ain't  nuther  walk  up  to  the 
scratch.'  He  didn't  back  out,  ner  I  didn't,  'n'  in  'bout  ten 
minutes  we  both  b'longed  to  Comp'ny  Q.  She's  goin'  ter 
be  the  boss  comp'ny,  too.    That's  the  way  it  happened,  'n'  I 


AN  ALARMING  SUGGESTION.  23 

don't  see  how  a  boy  like  me  could  ha'  done  any  different. 
Jest  one  spoonful  more  o'  that  currant  jell',  mother, 
please." 

"The  fact  is,  Si,"  said  the  head  of  the  family,  *'I  s'pose 
I  could  get  ye  out  by  goin'  to  law,  'cause  ye're  a  long 
ways  under  age  an'  I  didn't  give  my  consent  fer  ye  to 
'list." 

''But  ye  won't  do  that,  will  ye,  father?"  said  Si  quickly, 
with  a  look  of  alarm. 

''No,  Si.  Ye've  done  it  an'  I  aint  goin'  to  find  no  fault. 
I  don't  quite  see  how  I'm  goin'  to  git  'long  without  ye  on 
the  farm." 

"I'll  send  home  to  ye  all  the  money  I  'arn,"  said  Si,  "  'n' 
ye  can  hire  a  man  to  take  my  place." 

"Uncle  Sam  '11  make  ye  work  purty  cheap,  Si.  Thirteen 
dollars  a  month  aint  very  much,  'n'  I  reckon  what  ye'll 
have  left  arter  usin'  what  ye  need  won't  'mount  to  a  great 
deal.  The  men  'round  here  's  all  goin'  to  the  war.  Farm 
hands  is  gittin'  skurce  an'  wages  is  high  an'  goin'  higher." 

"But  \'e  never  got  such  big  prices  afore  fer  j^er  wheat  'n' 
com  'n'  pork,"  observed  Si,  to  whom  it  seemed  that,  in  a 
financial  point  of  view,  the  case  was  not  without  its  com- 
pensating features. 

"Mother  an'  me  can  help  ye,  father,"  said  Maria,  who 
had  sat  quiet  and  thoughtful,  taking  little  part  in  the 
conversation.  "There  isn't  anybody  feels  wuss  'bout  Si's 
goin'  'n  I  do,  but  all  the  same  I'm  proud  of  him!  An'  if 
we  work  a  leetle  harder  an'  fill  his  place  we'll  all  feel  that 
we're  doin'  somethin'  for  the  country.  A  woman  can't 
shoulder  a  gun  an'  march  an'  fight,  but  there's  a  good 
many  ways  she  can  help." 

So  it  was  all  settled  that  Si  should  go  to  the  war.  He 
arose  from  the  table  happy  in  heart  and  in  stomach.  He 
bustled  around  for  a  time,  bringing  in  a  bountiful  supply 
of  water  and  wood  and  kindlings,  and  doing  everything 


24  AN  EVENING  PILGRIMAGE. 

he  could  think  of  for  his  mother  and  sister.    Then  he  put- 
on  his  hat  and  started  for  the  door. 

**  Where  ye  goin',  Si?"  asked  his  mother. 

*'  I'll  be  back  after  a  bit, "  he  replied,  evasively.  The  light 
of  the  tallow  candle  was  too  faint  to  reveal  the  blush  that 
mantled  his  tingling  cheeks. 

''Don't  be  too  inquisitive,  mother,"  said  Maria,  as  Si 
made  a  hasty  exit. 

Si  bent  his  steps  toward  the  home  where  Annabel  lived, 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  He  walked  ver^-  fast  at  first,  so 
anxious  was  he  to  see  the  neighbor's  prett}'  daughter  and 
tell  her  all  about  it.  He  wondered  if  she  would  feel  badly 
about  his  going  awa}-.  He  couldn't  help  hoping  she 
would— just  a  little. 

Si  and  Annabel  had  been  pla^^mates  from  childhood. 
They  had  grown  up  together,  and  Si  had  come,  little  by 
little,  to  feel  a  sense  of  proprietorship  in  her — almost  im- 
palpable, and  yet  to  him  an  existing  reality.  No  other 
boy  in  the  neighborhood  had  so  well-established  a  right  as 
he  to  take  Annabel  sleigh-riding  in  winter  and  to  the  circus 
in  summer.  Up  to  the  time  of  his  enlistment  not  a  word 
had  ever  passed  between  them  that  could  make  their 
relations  any  more  definite  than  would  naturally  result 
from  a  childish  fancy.  Among  their  companions  she 
was  recognized  as  Si's  ''girl"  and  he  as  her  legitimate 
"beau." 

As  Si  paced  along  that  night  he  v^as  conscious  that  he 
had  that  day  made  a  long  stride  toward  manhood.  He 
felt  that  he  was  a  boy  no  longer,  and  with  this  came  a 
feeling  toward  Annabel  that  he  had  never  experienced 
before.  He  had  heard  of  people  being  "in  love,"  but  up  to 
this  time  had  only  a  vague  idea  of  what  that  meant. 
After  thinking  it  over  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  was 
in  that  condition,  whatever  it  was.  On  no  other  hypoth- 
esis could  he  satisfy  himself  regarding  the  sensations 
that  thrilled  him  more  and  more  as  he  drew  nearer,  step 


PALPITATION  OF  THE  HEART.  25 

by  step,  to  her  father's  door.  In  fact,  by  the  time  he 
reached  the  gate  it  was  about  an  even  race  between  his 
country  and  Annabel  for  the  first  place  in  his  affections. 

Si  did  not  at  once  rush  into  the  house.  The  agitation  of 
his  heart  Avas  such  as  to  utterly  destroy  his  courage.  He 
walked  some  distance  past  and  then  turned  around  and 
walked  as  far  the  other  way,  striving  to  quiet  the  turmoil 
in  his  breast;  but  the  more  he  tried  the  more  he  couldn't 
do  it.    The  symptoms  were  those  of  a  malignant  case. 

For  half  an  hour  he  patrolled  the  beat  in  front  of  the 
house,  as  if  it  were  the  headquarters  of  a  general  and 
he  the  guard.  At  every  turn,  ashamed  of  his  timidity, 
he  resolved  that  he  would  march  straight  to  the  door, 
but  as  often,  by  the  time  he  reached  the  gate,  his  courage 
had  all  oozed  out  at  the  ends  of  his  fingers  and  toes. 
Then  he  would  keep  on,  gathering  strength  again  as  the 
distance  increased,  and  at  length  face  about  and  repeat  the 
performance.  Once  the  watch-dog  came  out  and  barked 
at  him  until  he  felt  that  he  would  like  to  kill  the  animal 
had  he  not  known  Annabel's  fondness  for  him.  The 
farmer  opened  the  door  and  looked  out  to  see  what  it 
wsis  that  had  provoked  such  a  breach  of  the  peace.  Si 
dropped  into  a  fence  corner  and  la}^  trembling  until  quiet 
was  restored. 

He  had  more  than  half  a  mind  to  give  it  up  and  go 
home,  but  as  soon  as  he  could  bring  his  perturbed  thoughts 
to  bear  upon  this  proposition  he  spurned  it  as  unworthy 
of  him.  What  would  he  ever  amount  to  as  a  soldier  if  he 
was  afraid  to  face  so  harmless  a  thing  as  the  neighbor's 
■daughter  ?  This  view  of  the  case  was  like  an  elixir  to  him. 
His  courage  came  back  to  stay.  He  opened  the  gate, 
walked  boldly  up  to  the  door,  and  rapped  with  no  un- 
certain sound. 

''Come  in!" 

Si's  heart  beat  like  a  trip-hammer  as  he  raised  the  latch 
and  entered. 


26  IT  BECOMES  CONTAGIOUS. 

''Hello,  Si,  how  d'ye  do?"  was  the  farmer's  greeting. 

"Good  evenin' !"  said  Si  in  response,  with  some  shyness 
of  manner.  His  coy  salutation  was  addressed  in  a  general 
way  to  the  family  group,  although,  judging  from  his  eyes, 
it  was  aimed  more  particularly  at  Annabel.  She  smiled 
and  Si  thought  she  blushed — probably  she  did.  There  was 
atinge  of  sadness  on  her  face  that  for  the  moment  he  could 
not  understand.  She  did  not  express  the  surprise  he  had 
supposed  she  would  at  seeing  him  in  the  uniform,  of  a 
soldier. 

*'I  was  in  town  this  arternoon,"  said  the  farmer,  ''an  I 
heerd  ^^e'd  jined  the  company  they're  raisin'." 

Annabel  bent  down  her  head  and  looked  very  hard  at 
her  sewing.  So  she  had  already  heard  of  it,  thought  Si. 
He  wondered  if  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  existed 
between  her  knowledge  and  the  sad,  quiet  manner  so 
unusual  to  her. 

"Them  clothes  is  becomin'  to  ye,  Si,"  continued  Anna- 
bel's father,  in  his  bluff,  hearty  way,  "an'  ye'll  make  a  fine 
lookin'  soljer.    We'll  all  be  sorr}^  to  have  ye  go " 

Si  cast  a  quick  glance  at  Annabel  to  see  if  he  could  read 
in  her  face  the  extent  to  which  she  would  share  in  the  gen- 
eral grief.  She  did  not  look  up,  and  he  thought  he  saw 
something  that  glistened  in  her  e3'e,  but  he  may  have  been 
mistaken. 

" an'  we  hope  there  won't  nothin'  happen  to  ye  down 

there.    Ye  must  be  spry  an'  dodge  the  bullets   of  them 
pesky  rebels." 

Annabel  got  up  and  went  to  a  cupboard  in  the  corner  of 
the  room  to  look  for  something.  She  seemed  to  have  a 
good  deal  of  difficult}^  in  finding  it.  Once  Si  saw  her  put 
her  kerchief  to  her  eyes.  It  was  no  doubt  mereh^  accidental 
and  had  no  connection  with  the  subject  of  conversation. 
After  a  while  she  went  back  to  her  seat,  but  she  appeared 
not  to  have  found  what  she  was  looking  for. 

Si's  stay  was  brief.    He  had  in  his  mind  some  things  he 


SPEAKING  EYES. 


27 


thought  he  wanted  to  say  in  Annabel's  ear,  but  no  oppor- 
tunity was  offered,  owing  to  the  perverse  blindness  of  the 
*'old  folks" — so  often  a  source  of  exasperation  to  young 
hearts  palpitating  with  the  tender  passion.  It  may  be 
seriously  doubted,  however,  whether  Si  could  have  mus- 
tered courage  enough  to  say  anything  confidential  to  the 
rosy-cheeked  girl  if  he  had  had  a  chance  to  do  so.    Be  this 


AT  THE  neighbor's. 

as  it  may,  he  was  not  in  his  usual  loquacious  mood  for 
general  conversation.  So  the  kind-hearted  old  farmer  did 
most  of  the  talking.  Si  only  responding  now  and  then  in 
monosyllables.  But  what  his  busy  eyes  had  seen,  aided  by 
an  active  imagination,  had  given  him  a  measurably  satis- 
factory answer  to  the  question  his  throbbing  heart  had 
silently  asked. 


28  SI  LONGS  FOR  MARCHING  ORDERS. 

When  Si  arose  and  bade  the  family  good  night,  Annabel 
stepped  quickh-to  the  door  and  followed  him  outside  for  a 
single  moment. 

''Si,"  she  said  softh^  "I  know  it's  right  fer  ye  to  go,  but 
— ye  don't  know — how  bad — it  makes  me  feel!" 

Putting  her  arm  around  his  neck  she  kissed  his  hot 
cheek.  Before  he  could  recover  his  senses  she  had  fled 
into  the  house  like  a  frightened  fawn.  Si  pinched  himself 
two  or  three  times  to  see  Avhether  it  was  he  or  somebody 
else.  Then  he  walked  rapidly  home,  the  happiest  boy  in 
all  Indiana. 


CHAPTER  III. 

In  Which  Si  is  Provided  with  a  Bountiful  Outfit,  Makes  Satis- 
factory Progress  with  Annabel,  and  Starts  for  the  War. 

SI  KLEGG  was  very  impatient  to  get  away  to  the 
front.  It  was  only  a  week  after  his  enlistment  that 
Compan}^  Q  left  for  the  regimental  rendezvous  to  become 
apart  of  the  200th'Indiana,  but  a  month  had  never  seemed 
so  long  to  him.  Ever^^  day  he  went  to  town  to  see  how 
the  work  of  recruiting  was  getting  on.  He  assisted,  to  the 
utmost  of  his  ability  and  influence,  in  filling  the  ranks  b}/ 
persuasive  efforts  among  his  comrades. 

Si  had  now  little  taste  for  the  plodding  work  of  the 
farm.  Possibly  he  felt  that  such  plebeian  toil  was  not  in 
keeping  with  the  dignity  that  properly  belonged  to  a 
soldier.  Now  and  then  the  thought  woulu  come  that  he 
ought  to  lend  a  willing  hand  to  help  his  father  while  he 
could;   but  he  was  so  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  w^ar 


SI  TO   HAVE  A   GOOD   SEND-OFF.  29 

Spirit,  and  so  restive  at  the  delay,  that  he  could  give  no 
serious  consideration  to  anything  else.  There  was  little 
to  do  to  put  him  in  marching  order.  He  had  no  incum- 
brances, and  could  juvSt  as  well  have  marched  away  the 
morning  after  his  name  was  added  to  the  company  roll. 
Indeed,  nothing  could  have  pleased  him  better. 

His  feelings  were  saddened  sometimes  when  he  allowed 
himself  to  picture  the  parting  from  parents  and  sister,  and 
thoughts  of  Annabel  made  his  heart  twinge  with  even 
greater  violence.  With  the  philosophy  of  a  stoic,  how- 
ever, he  persuaded  himself  that  the  sundering  of  these 
ties  was  but  a  part  of  the  sacrifice  that  every  soldier 
must  make,  and  to  which  he  had  already  become  rec- 
onciled. On  the  whole  he  would  be  glad  rather  than 
otherwise  when  the  farewells  were  over.  He  did  not 
desire  frequent  repetition  of  the  tearful  scene  that  was 
caused  by  his  return  from  the  village  on  that  eventful 
day. 

Among  Si's  relatives,  irrespective  of  age  or  sex,  great 
zeal  was  manifested  in  fitting  him  out  for  his  first  cam- 
paign. They  had  heard  much  about  the  sufferings  of 
the  soldiers  for  lack  of  home  comforts,  and  it  was  unani- 
mously voted  that  Si  should  want  for  nothing  that  could 
minister  to  his  external  or  internal  welfare.  If  he  suffered 
it  should  not  be  their  fault.  His  female  friends  were  par- 
ticularly active  in  the  good  work.  In  preparing  his  outfit 
they  displayed  that  marvelous  discrimination  that  charac- 
terized the  patriotic  women  of  America  in  this  respect 
during  the  early  part  of  the  war,  before  they  had  learned 
better.  Feminine  ingenuity  exhausted  itself  in  conjuring 
up  all  sorts  of  things,  describable  and  indescribable,  that 
could  make  life  a  burden  to  a  recruit  in  active  service. 
When  they  could  not  think  of  any  thing  more  to  make,  they 
ransacked  the  stores  for  something  to  buy  and  load  him 
down. 
Si's  mother  and  sister  devoted  to  this  labor  of  love  all 


30 


A   BOUNTIFUL  PROVISION. 


their  time  and  energies  not  employed  in  ministering  to  his 
appetite.  Not  an  hour  passed  but  they  thought  of  some- 
thing else  that  he  would  need  for  his  health  and  comfort, 
and  there  was  no  rest  till  it  was  provided.  By  the  time 
the  contributions  of  friends  and  neighbors  had  been  sent 
in  there  was  a  large  wheelbarrow-load,  without  taking 
into  account  the  stock  he  would  receive  from  the  gov- 
ernment. 

''There,  Si," said  his  good  mother,  with  evident  satisfac- 
tion, as  she  showed 
him  the  result  of  the 
labor  of  loving  hearts 
and  hands,  "we've  got 
this  clothes-basket 
purty  nigh  full.  I 
reckon  them  things  '11 
fix  ye  out  tollable  well. 
If  ye're  keerful  an* 
don't  lose  any  of  'em 
ye  can  keep  yerself 
kind  o'  comfortable 
like." 

''That'll  be  jest 
gorjus,"  replied  Si. 
"  Marchin'  'n'  campin* 

A  MODEL  OUTFIT.  WOU't   bc   UOthiu'    but 

fun  's  long  's  a  feller  's  got  ever3rthin'  he  wants.  I  'low 
the  boys  wouldn't  have  sich  hard  times  if  they  all  had 
mothers  'n'  sisters  like  I've  got." 

"I've  heerd,  Si,  that  they  only  give  the  soljers  one 
blanket  apiece.  I  s'pose  ye'll  have  to  sleep  on  the  ground 
a  good  deal  o'  the  time,  an'  ye'll  want  plenty  o'  kivers ;  so 
I've  got  ye  an  extry  blanket  an'  this  heavy  quilt— ye  must 
take  good  care  o'  that  'cause  it's  one  o'  my  best  ones,  an', 
if  ye  can,  I'd  like  ye  to  fetch  it  back  in  good  shape  when  the 
war  's  over.    I  guess  they'll  keep  ye  warm.    I'd  feel  awful 


TAKING   AX  INVENTORY.  33 

to  be  all  the  time  'fraid  ye  was  ketchin'  cold.  I'll  give  ye 
one  o'  my  best  pillers  if  ye  want,  to  lay  yer  head  on.  I've 
made  ye  a  pair  o'  nice  undershirts.  Ye '11  want  'em  after  a 
while  an'  ye'd  better  take  'em  'long  now,  'cause  I  don't 
s'pose  I'll  git  a  chance  to  send  'em  to  ye.  Here's  three  pair 
o'  good  woolen  socks.  I  don't  reckon  them  they  has  in 
the  army  is  any  great  shakes.  Yer  Aunt  Samanthy  knit 
*em  fer  ye.  Marier's  made  ye  a  purty  needle  case  full  o' 
needles  an'  buttons  an'  thread  an'  apa'r  o' scissors.  Them 
things  '11  come  mighty  handy.  Ye  won't  have  no  mother 
to  mend  up  yer  clothes  an'  sew  on  yer  buttons  an'  darn 
yer  stockin's.  Here's  a  harnsom'  portfolio  yer  sister 
bought  fer  ye.  It's  got  lots  o'  paper  an'  envelopes  an' 
pens  an'  pencils  an'  ink  an'  postage  stamps.  I  know  ye 
ain't  a  great  hand  to  be  writin'  letters,  but  ye  mus'n't 
forgit  that  we'll  want  ter  hear  from  ye  reel  often.  Yet 
father  bought  ye  a  pa'r  o'  boots.  They  won't  weigh 
more'n  five  or  six  pounds,  an'  ye  can  carry  'em  'long  to 
wear  when  yer  guv'ment  shoes  gives  out.  They  say  that 
the  army  shoes  drops  all  to  pieces  in  a  few^  days.  I  'xpect 
the  contractors  gits  rich  out  of  'em. 

*'We  want  ye  to  keep  yerself  lookin'  nice  an'  slick,  an' 
yer  Cousin  Betsey  got  je  a  toilet -case,  with  a  comb  an' 
brush  an'  lookin'-glass  an'  a  bottle  o'  ha'r  ile.  Here's  half 
a  dozen  cakes  o'  sweet-smellin'  soap  to  keep  yer  ban's  an' 
face  clean,  an'  a  couple  o'  towels.  I  don't  s'pose  Uncle 
Sam  '11  give  ye  any.  An'  I've  put  in  a  clothes-brush;  ye'll 
have  plenty  o'  use  for  that.  Ye  mustn't  forgit  to  black  up 
yer  shoes  every  mornin'.  I've  got  ye  a  good  new  brush 
an'  a  couple  o'  boxes  o'  blackin'.  Here's  a  big  pin-cushion 
full  o'  pins  from  Aunt  Polly.  A  pin  's  a  purty  small  thing, 
but  sometimes  when  ye  want  one  ye  want  it  mighty  bad. 
These  ought  to  last  ye  a  year  or  two,  if  ye  ha\  e  ter  stay  that 
long,  which  goodness  knows  I  hope  ye  won't.  I've  fixed 
up  a  box  o'  medicine  for  ye.  I  know  ye  don't  very  often 
git  sick,  but  then  ye  might  git  took  sudden,  an'  them  army 


32  ENOUGH  FOR  A  FAIR  START. 

doctors  won't  know  what  ye  want  to  bring  ye  'round 
half 's  well  's  yer  mammy  does.  Here's  a  bottle  o'  Number 
Six,  an'  'nother  o'  rewbarb,  an'  a  box  o'  headache  pills, 
an'  a  bunch  o'  pennyr'yal.  Ye  know  pennyr'yal  tea  's 
powerful  good  when  one  gits  under  the  weather. 

''The  parson  didn't  forgit  ye,  nuther.  He  sent  over  a 
Bible  fer  ye  to  read  an'  a  hymn-book  fer  ye  to  sing  out  of 
when  ye  feels  like  singin'.  Ye'd  better  take  'long  the  Bible 
ye  got  last  Christmas,  too,  'cause  suthin  might  happen  to 
one  on  'em,  and  I'd  feel  sorry  to  think  ye  hadn't  none. 
Like  enough  a  good  many  o'  the  soljers  won't  have  Bibles 
an'  they'll  all  want  to  be  borryin'  yours.  I  don't  think 
ye'll  care  ter  tote  a  very  big  library,  but  I  jest  wanted  ter 
give  ye  my  'Pilgrim's  Progress.'  'Tain't  very  heavy,  an* 
ye'll  be  a  sort  of  a  pilgrim  yerself.  P'r'aps  3^e'll  have 
purty  nigh  's  hard  a  time  's  the  man  John  Bun^^an  writ 
'bout.  Here's  somethin'  I  know  ye'll  like.  Si.  We've  all 
had  our  fortygraphs  took,  an'  Marier  got  ye  this  album  in 
town  yisterday.  The  picturs  is  all  in  there  and  there's 
room  fer  a  few  more. 

"Yer  Cousin  Jim  bought  ye  a  couple  o'  boxes  o'  paper 
collars,  and  Marier  made  some  neckties  that'll  go  well 
with  'em.  Here's  a  roll  o'  bandages  an'  a  bundle  o'  lint. 
I  hope  and  pray,  Si,  ye  won't  have  any  use  fer  'em  yerself, 
but  I  reck'n  they're  desperate  car'less  with  all  their  differ- 
ent kinds  o'shootin'  things,  an'  it'll  be  a  good  idee  to  have 
em  if  ye  do  git  hurt.  Then  I  couldn't  think  o'  yer  goin' 
'thout  takin'  'long  a  few  cans  o'  peaches,  an'  jell',  an' 
some  o'  that  cramberry  jam  A^e're  so  fond  of.  An'  I've  put 
ye  up  four  or  five  pounds  o'  nice  butter.  I  guess  ye  can 
carry  it.  I  s'pose  I'll  think  o'  lots  more  things  afore  ye  go, 
but  we've  got  'nough  here  fer  a  fair  start." 

Si  expressed  in  the  warmest  terms  his  gratitude  for  his 
mother's  thoughtfulness  in  providing  so  bountifully  for 
him.  Neither  of  them  had  the  faintest  conception  of  the 
actual  capacity  of  a  soldier's  knapsack;    not   did  they 


PREPARING  FOR   SLAUGHTER, 


33 


imagine  that  he  would  'soon  see  the  time  when  everx- pound 
he  carried  would  seem  to  weigh  a  ton. 

Si's  Sunda^^  school  teacher  gave  him  a  barbarous  bowie- 
knife  with  a  blade  a  foot  long.  It  was  provided  with  a 
leather  sheath  and  a  belt,  so  that  he  could  wear  it  around 
his  body.  The  presentation  was  made  at  a  Sunday-school 
picnic,  which  took  place  just  before  Compan3'Qgot  march 
in-orders.  The  teacher  ^^n* -"TrD^-^l . /7:y  lihW 


delivered  an  impressive 
speech  as  he  handed  Si 
the  hideous  weapon. 
The  women  and  chil- 
dren shuddered  as  they 
looked  upon  the  hor- 


rible thing,  and  were 
deeply  affected  at  the 
thought  of  Si  roaming 
around  through  the 
south  like  a  murder- 
ous brigand,  plunging  '|| 
the  reeking  steel  into 
the  bowels  of  every- 
body he  met. 

The  young  soldier 
was  greatly  pleased 
with  so  practical  and 
useful  a  gift.  He  assured  his  teacher  that  he  would  never 
bring  dishonor  upon  the  shining  blade,  and  that  he  would 
make  as  much  havoc  with  it  as  possible  among  the  foes  of 
his  country. 

Some  of  those  good  people  seemed  realh^  to  believe  that 
whole  battalions  of  rebels  would  be  gathered  to  their 
fathers,  and  the  south  would  be  filled  with  widows  and 
orphans,  through  the  devastating  agenc^^  of  that  knife, 
wielded  bv  theavengino^  arm  of  Si  Kles^or;  in  short,  that  he 
would  soon  end  the  war  \vhen  he  had  a  fair  chance  to  use 


A  DELUSION  OF  THE   WAR. 


34  Annabel's  grief. 

it.  He  would  throw  himself  upon  the  enemy  and  cut  and 
hew  and  slash,  covering  the  field  with  ghastly  heaps  of  the 
slain.  All  that  the  rest  of  the  200th  Indiana  would  have 
to  do  would  be  to  follow  him  with  picks  and  shovels,  and 
bury  the  dead.  Such  were  the  notions  of  war,  that  pre- 
vailed during  the  first  year  or  two  of  the  great  struggle.* 

And  what  of  the  neighbor's  daughter  ?  How  did  Anna- 
bel pass  the  week  between  Si's  enlistment  and  departure? 
The  most  marked  effect  upon  her  of  his  entering  the  service 
was  a  rapid  crystallization  of  her  feelings  toward  him.  Si 
had  not  said  anything  to  her  about  it,  nor  did  there  seem  to 
be  any  pressing  need  that  he  should  do  so.  When  he  called 
at  her  father's  house  the  evening  of  the  day  he  enlisted, 
she  became  vividly  conscious  that  she  was  more  to  him 
than  any  other  of  the  neighborhood  girls,  and  equally  so 
that  she  had  a  reciprocal  feeling  toward  him.  No  premed- 
itation on  either  side  had  contributed  to  bring  about  this 
happy  state  of  affairs  between  them.  Like  Topsy,  it  had 
*'just  growed,"  and  neither  of  them  realized  it  until  it  de- 
veloped so  rapidly  under  the  ripening  influence  of  Si's  blue 
uniform. 

Annabel  cried  herself  to  sleep  that  night,  and  then  dreamed 
all  sorts  of  awful  things  about  Si  away  down  in  the  army. 
In  the  morning  her  reddened  eyes  and  sad  face  betrayed 
her.  Her  mother  was  not  long  in  understanding  the  case. 
She  had  noted  the  symptoms,  from  time  to  time,  and  it 
was  not  difficult  to  arrive  at  the  cause  of  her  daughter's 


*  The  writer  deems  it  not  inappropriate  to  say  that  on  the  eve  of  his 
departure  for  camp  he  and  several  comrades  were  each  presented  with 
one  of  these  tremendous  implements  of  destruction.  The  presentation 
was  made  by  a  college  professor,  in  a  church,  before  a  tearful  and  shud- 
dering audience.  The  general  feeling  appeared  to  be,  as  we  buckled  on 
those  knives,  that  they  would  cause  a  speedy  collapse  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy.  Candor  compels  the  statement  that  no  blood  ever  stained 
them  save  that  of  vagrant  pigs  and  chickens ;  and  that  their  chief  func- 
tion in  putting  down  the  rebellion  was  to  slice  bacon  for  the  frying  pan 
or  the  ramrod. 


SHE  RECEIVES  AN   *' INVITE."  35 

dejection.  She  thought  well  of  Si  and  made  no  effort  to 
disturb  the  amatory  relations  that  v^ere  evidently  fast  be- 
coming established.  True,  both  were  yet  too  young  to  be 
''engaged,"  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  occasion  for  parental 
interference. 

In  the  Klegg  family  it  was  much  the  same.  Si's  mother 
and  sister  had  not  been  blind  to  his  boyish  partiality  for 
Annabel.  Their  keen  eyes  and  instincts  read  through  the 
flimsy  mantle  of  concealment  with  which  Si  tried  to  hide 
his  feelings.  If  they  had  questioned  him  on  the  subject  he 
would  probably  have  lied  about  it,  as  young  people  usually 
do  when  they  have  reached  the  mellow  stage  of  love's  en- 
chantment. The  matter  was  quietlv  talked  over,  at  odd 
moments,  and  it  was  decided  that  the  best  thing  to  do  was 
to  do  nothing  and  let  matters  take  their  own  course. 

The  situation  was,  however,  somewhat  embarrassing  to 
both  Si  and  Annabel,  in  their  intercourse  with  each  other, 
and  with  their  respective  families.  Their  natural  coyness 
at  first  placed  the  seal  of  silence  upon  their  tongues.  What- 
ever the  future  might  have  in  store  for  them,  their  relations 
were  as  yet  too  immature  to  become  a  theme  for  conver- 
sation. But  the  rules  which  custom  has  laid  down  for 
affairs  of  the  tender  passion  would  not  appl^^  to  such  ex- 
traordinary cases  as  the  one  in  question.  Si  was  going  to 
the  war,  and  this  soon  swept  away  the  barrier. 

''Si,"  said  his  sister  Maria  one  day,  "I've  asked  Annie 
over  to  supper  to-night." 

"Annie  who?"  exclaimed  Si,  assuming  dense  ignorance, 
but  at  the  same  time  growing  very  red  in  the  face. 

"Annie  who !  Wall  I  declare  to  goodness  if  I  ever  heerd 
the  like !  Anybody  'd  think  ye  knowed  a  thousand  Annies 
an'  ye  couldn't  tell  which  of  'em  I'm  talking  about.  Annie 
who !  Oh,  Si!"  And  Maria  gave  him  a  suggestive  nudge, 
as  if  to  quicken  his  perceptions  and  assist  him  to  identify 
the  particular  Annie  who  had  been  invited  to  supper. 

"Whj,  yes— that  is— of  course,"  said  Si,  while  the  hot 


36  "bless  you,  my  children!" 

blood  mantled  his  cheeks,  "how  sh'd  I  know  what  gals 
ye've  asked.     'Tain't  nothin'  to  me,  nohow !" 

"Now,  Jo-si-er  Klegg,  ^-e  ought  ter  be  'shamed  o^  yerself, 
an'  I  b'lieve  ye  are,  too  ;  I'm  sure  I'd  be  if  I  was  you.  But 
reely.  Si,  layin'  all  jokes  aside,  Annie  's  a  nice  girl  an'  we're 
all  glad  ye  think  so  much  of  her.  Ye  needn't  try  to  keep  it 
to  yerself  any  longer,  'cause  ye  can't  do  it.  We  know  all 
'bout  it  just  the  same  's  if  ye'd  told  us.  We  had  an  idee  it 
'd  please  je  to  ask  her  over  and  let  us  all  git  sort  o' 
'quainted  like  'fore  ye  go  off  to  the  war.  We've  got  ye 
cornered  an'  ye  may  as  well  give  in.  Don't  ye  think  it  '11 
be  the  best  way?" 

Si  rather  thought,  on  the  whole,  that  it  would.  After  a 
little  more  parleying  he  decided  upon  an  unconditional 
surrender.  Then  he  told  his  sister  how  kind  it  was  of  her, 
and  how  glad  he  was  for  what  she  had  done. 

"But  ye  didn't  tell  me,"  he  said,  "whether  she  accepted 
yer  invite." 

"She  was  a  bit  shy  at  first,  an'  she  asked  me  if  I  thought 
you'd  like  to  have  her.  I  told  her  I  knowed  ye  would,  an' 
then  she  looked  kind  o'  smilc}^  an'  said  right  away  she'd 
come.  I  s'pose  Si,"  Maria  added  with  a  sly  twinkle  in 
her  eye,  "you'll  see  to  gittin'  her  home  all  right." 

Si  did  not  answer  in  words,  but  the  look  upon  his  face 
sufficiently  indicated  the  alacrity'  with  which  he  would  dis- 
charge this  pleasing  duty. 

Annabel  came,  pretty  as  a  peach  blossom.  She  blushed 
a  good  deal  and  so  did  Si,  but  father  and  mother  and 
sister  Maria  gave  no  heed  to  the  bright  carnation  hues 
that  kept  coming  and  going  on  those  two  pairs  of  cheeks. 
They  just  rattled  away  and  tried  to  make  Annabel  feel 
that  Si  was  not  the  only  friend  she  had  in  the  family.  Si 
frequently  cast  furtive  glances  across  the  table  at  the  fair 
guest,  though  he  did  not  take  any  part  in  the  conversation 
worth  mentioning.  He  scarceh^  spoke  to  Annabel  during 
the  whole  time  of  her  stay.    He  made  some  earnest  speeches 


AX   EVENING  STROLL. 


37 


with  his  eyes,  but  reserved  his  vocal  forces  for  the  walk 
home  with  her. 

Si  was  glad  when  she  remarked  that  she  guessed  it  was 
time  for  her  to  go.  His  services  as  escort  were  promptly 
offered.  She  told  him  coyly  that  he  didn't  have  to  go  ;  it 
wasn't  very  dark  and  she  knew  the  way.  She  didn't  mean 
it  at  all.  She  would  have  cried  her  eyes  out  if  Si  had  taken 
her  at  her  word  and  hung  up  his  hat  again.  But  she 
did  not  think  he  would  do  that,  and  he  didn't. 

It  is  not  a  matter 
of  public  concern 
what  passed  be- 
tween them  during 
that  walk— whether 
they  talked  about 
the  weather,  the 
crops  and  the  stars, 
or  whether  they 
maintained  the 
same  eloquent 
silence  that  mark- 
ed their  manner  to- 
ward each  other 
at  the  supper  table. 
It  may  fairly  be 
presumed,  however, 
that    they    found 


A   SATISFACTORY  STATE   OF   AFFAIRS. 


something  to  say 
of  an  interesting  nature,  for  Si's  absence  from  home  was 
protracted  to  a  degree  that  was  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  distance  between  the  two  houses. 

''Have  they  moved,  Si?"  asked  Maria  with  a  smile,  as 
her  brother  at  length  entered. 

"N-no,  I  reck'n  not,"  he  replied  rather  dubiously,  turn- 
ing his  face  to  hide  his  confusion.  The  fact  is,  he  could  not 
have  told  whether  the  house  of  Annabel's  father  stood 


38  A  WELCOME   ORDER. 

where  it  used  to  or  had  been  moved  over  into  the  next 
township. 

''Seems  's  though  ye'd  been  five  mile,"  said  Maria, 
** Better  set  down  'n'  rest;  ye  must  be  tired  !" 

Si  said  he  wasn't  tired  a  bit,  and  he  didn't  know  that 
he  had  been  gone  ver^-  long.  He  was  happy  in  the  well- 
grounded  belief  that  no  stay-at-home  rival  could  ''cut  him 
out  "in  the  good  graces  of  the  farmer's  fair  daughter  while 
he  was  "gone  to  the  war." 

Annabel's  nimble  fingers  were  not  idle  during  these  days. 
She  worked  a  pair  of  slippers  for  Si,  which  she  thought 
would  be  comfortable  for  him  to  put  on  at  night  after 
a  hard  daj^'s  march.  She  stitched  his  name  into  the  cor- 
ners of  half  a  dozen  nice  handkerchiefs,  and  worked  a 
fancy  bookmark,  so  that  he  would  not  lose  the  place  in 
his  Bible.  Then  she  went  to  the  photographer's  and  sat  for 
her  picture.  This  she  had  enclosed  in  a  pretty  locket,  Avith 
a  wisp  of  her  hair,  and  a  red  ribbon  fastened  to  it  so  that 
he  could  wear  it  around  his  neck,  if  he  Avanted  to,  and  she 
hoped  he  did.  All  these  things  helped  to  make  Si  happy. 
A  soldier  couldn't  help  having  a  gay  time  of  it  with  such 
an  elaborate  outfit. 

One  da}'  Si  returned  from  town  greatly  elated.  The  roll 
of  company  Q  had  reached  high-water  mark.  A  hundred 
sturdy  young  men  had  filled  its  ranks,  and  they  were 
ordered  to  be  ready  to  take  the  train  on  the  following  day 
for  the  rendezvous.  There  were  sad  hearts  that  night  in 
the  farmer's  humble  home.  Only  a  few  hours,  now,  and 
father,  mother  and  sister  must  say  farewell  to  their  boy — 

"  It  maj'  be  for  years  and  it  maj-  be  forever." 

Little  sleep  came  to  their  eyes,  and  tears  moistened  the 
pillows.  Si's  head  was  filled  with  romantic  visions  of  the 
new  life  upon  which  he  was  about  to  enter,  but  even  these 
gave  place  now  and  then  to  thoughts  of  the  separation. 
As  he  lay  there  he  wondered  if  Annabel  was  asleep.    He 


SI  LEAVES  THE  OLD  HOME.  39 

would  have  felt  comforted  in  a  measure  had  he  knov^n 
that  through  the  too  swiftly  passing  hours,  she  often 
wiped  from  her  soft  cheeks  the  tears  that  flowed  for  sake 
of  him. 

Before  break  of  day  the  family  were  astir  and,  with  sad 
faces,  busily  engaged  in  the  final  preparations.  Si's  bag- 
gage had  been  for  days  hourly  augmented  by  sundry  articles 
of  clothing,  and  gimcracks  of  various  kinds.  When  they 
were  all  packed  into  a  big  box  there  seemed  to  be  every- 
thing that  he  could  need  or  desire — and  a  good  deal  more. 
He  never  had  so  much  in  his  life  before.  His  mother  put 
in  a  lot  of  pies,  cookies,  etc.,  that  she  had  baked  for  him, 
and  Annabel  brought  over  a  large  fruit-cake,  which  Si 
knew  would  taste  good  because  she  had  made  it  with  her 
own  hands. 

''Bully  for  you,  Annie,"  he  exclaimed  as  she  handed  him 
the  fragrant  loaf.  His  words  startled  her,  for  she  had 
never  heard  him  speak  in  that  way  before.  Si  hastened  to 
explain  that  it  was  time  for  him  to  begin  to  talk  like  a 
soldier  and  he  felt  that  he  ought  to  practice  a  little,  so  that 
he  could  be  getting  his  hand  in. 

Then  farmer  Klegg  hitched  the  team  to  the  big  wagon, 
the  box  of  quartermaster  and  commissary  stores  was 
loaded,  and  all  got  in.  Si  hoped  Annabel  would  ride  with 
them,  but  her  diffidence  overruled  his  suggestion  to  this 
effect.  She  vrould  be  there.  Everybody  for  miles  around 
was  going  to  see  the  boys  off,  and  she  would  ride  with  her 
own  family. 

As  the  hour  of  departure  approached,  a  great  crowd 
gathered  at  the  railway  station.  There  were  fathers, 
mothers,  sisters,  sweethearts  and  friends,  to  say  the  part- 
ing word  and  give  the  farewell  embrace  to  their  loved 
ones.  None  in  that  throng  whose  heart  was  not  moved 
as  it  had  never  been  before. 

The  company  formed  at  the  headquarters  and  with  fife 
and  drum  and  waving  banner,  marched  down  th-^  street. 


40 


TEARS,    CHEERS   AXD   ADIEUS. 


filling  the  air  with  shouts.  At  the  station  the  soldiers  were 
permitted  to  break  ranks  and  a  few  minutes  were  given  for 
hasty  adieus.  Can  words  depict  the  scene— the  streaming 
eyes,  the  clinging  clasp  of  loving  arms,  the  tender  words  of 
affection  and  of  admonition  ? 
''All  aboard!" 


OFF  TO  THE  WAR. 


Rudely  the  sacred  ties  are  sundered.  War  is  only  hard 
and  cruel,  and  its  demands  are  inexorable. 

Si's  face  is  wet  with  the  tears  of  mother  and  sister,  and 
his  cheek  is  warm  with  their  kisses.  Tearing  himself  from 
their  enfolding  arms  he  takes  for  an  instant  the  hand  of 
Annabel  and  looks  into  her  brimming  eyes.  No  word 
passes  their  quivering  lips.  Then  he  dashes  away.  He  is 
going  to  be  a  soldier  now. 

\ 


WHIRLING  AWAY.  41 

The  great  pile  of  baggage— enough  for  a  brigade  two 
years  later— has  been  put  on  board,  and  at  the  signal  the 
train  moves  off,  amidst  cheers  and  shouts  and  farewell 
waving  of  handkerchiefs. 

Faster  flow  the  tears  of  those  who  watch  the  receding 
train  that  is  bearing  sons  and  brothers  and  husbands 
away  to  scenes  of  suffering  and  death.  Many  of  those 
brave  boys  will  not  come  back.  Who  of  them  will  go 
down  in  the  fierce  storm  of  battle?  who  will  join  the  end- 
less procession  that  day  by  day  moves  from  the  hospitals 
to  the  populous  cities  of  the  dead  ? 

Ah,  how  hke  mountains  they  were  piled— the  pangs  of 
mothers  and  sisters  and  wives  at  parting  with  those  they 
loved;  and,  through  the  long  bitter  years  that  followed, 
the  dropping  tears  and  the  hearts  crushed  with  grief  for 
the  unkturning  ones,  in  a  million  homes  forever  clouded 
b}^  the  dark  shadows  of  war ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Contains  Some  Observations  on  a  Soldier's  Equipments,  and  Sees 
THE  Two  Hundredth  Indiana  Off  for  the  Front. 

SI  KLEGG  soon  forgot  the  sad  parting  as  the  train 
swiftly  bore  him  away.  Visions  of  his  new  life  took 
entire  possession  of  his  mind  and  heart,  crowding  out  all 
other  thoughts.  The  brightly-colored  picture  that  his 
fancy  painted  was  but  the  frontispiece  to  the  volume 
whose  dark  pages  were  yet  sealed  to  him. 

This  feeling  was  universal  among  the  members  of  Com- 
pany Q.  Moved  by  the  excitement  of  the  occasion  they 
indulged  in  the  wildest  hilarity.    They  jested  and  laughed 


42  A  TUMULTUOUS  TRIP. 

and  shouted  and  sang,  manifesting  a  convulsive  enthusi- 
asm that  promised  great  things  for  the  future  if  they  could 
only  keep  up  the  head  of  steam  that  was  now  lifting  the 
safetj^-valve.  With  valorous  words  those  lion-hearted 
patriots  recounted  to  one  another  the  prodigious  deeds  of 
heroism  that  they  would  perform  as  soon  as  they  met  the 
enemy — and  thej^  all  hoped  that  they  w^ouldn't  have  long 
to  ^wait. 

At  all  the  stopping  places  crowds  cheered  the  volunteers, 
the  boys  responding  with  tremendous  power  of  lungs.  As 
they  went  whirling  along,  the  Avave  of  a  kerchief  from  a 
farm-house  by  a  rustic  lass  or  matron — particularly  the 
former — was  always  the  signal  for  a  tempestuous  response. 
The  impression  seemed  to  prevail  among  the  people  along 
the  route  that  the  country  was  safe  now  that  Company 
Q  was  on  its  way  to  the  field,  and  it  was  high  time  for  the 
rebels  to  quit  and  go  home ;  they  doubtless  would  as  soon 
as  they  learned  that  the  company  had  started.  So  far  as 
might  have  been  judged  from  surface  indications,  thoje  on 
board  the  train  were  even  more  strongly  impressed  -with 
this  belief. 

An  hour's  ride  brought  Company  Q  to  the  place  of  rendez- 
vous, where  the  200th  Indiana  regiment  was  being  rapidly 
organized.  Most  of  the  companies  were  already  on  the 
ground,  and  the  full  complement  arrived  during  the  day. 
There  was  a  great  and  pressing  emergency  across  the 
border,  and  the  utmost  activity  prevailed  in  rushing  the 
new  levies  to  the  front.  The  President's  call  for  "three 
hundred  thousand  more"  had  been  promptly  and  cheer- 
full}'  met,  and  the  railroads  were  choked  with  trains  bear- 
ing fresh  regiments  to  the  point  of  danger  to  reinforce  the 
veteran  army  that  was  vainly  striving  to  check  the  north- 
ward sweep  of  the  enemy's  confident  legions.  Every  city 
and  hamlet  was  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excite- 
ment and  patriotic  fervor. 

Immediately  upon  alighting  from  the  train  the  members 


AT  THE  RENDEZVOUS.  43 

cf  Company  Q  learned  that  orders  had  been  received  for  the 
regiment  to  perfect  its  organization  at  once  and  hold  itself 
ready  to  move  at  a  moment's  notice.  It  was  understood 
that  the  200th  would  leave  that  evening. 

Si  was  glad  of  it.  He  was  burning  with  a  desire  to  fight 
the  rebels.  To  his  mind  everything  indicated  that  the 
commander  of  the  Union  army  was  only  awaiting  the  ar- 
rival of  Company  Q  to  fall  upon  the  enemy  and  smite  him 
hip  and  thigh.  Si  was  confident  that  before  another  day 
had  passed  he  would  be  charging  around  on  the  field  of 
battle,  climbing  over  heaps  of  slaughtered  rebels,  and  sur- 
rounding the  name  of  Klegg  with  a  halo  of  immortal 
renown. 

Language  cannot  describe  the  excitement  that  prevailed 
that  day  among  the  thousand  impetuous  recruits  who 
Avere  being  crystallized  into  a  regiment — for  there  was  not 
a  man  of  them  that  did  not  feel  just  as  Si  did.  Nobody 
thought  of  auA^thing  but  hastening  .the  work  of  prepara- 
tion. Ofiicers  in  gorgeous  uniforms,  on  horseback  and  on 
foot,  were  hustling  around  with  that  consciousness  of  im- 
portance that  comes  to  most  men  when  they  first  find 
themselves  clothed  with  authority  over  those  otherwise 
their  equals,  and  able  to  say,  in  the  language  of  the  Cen- 
turion of  old:  ''For  I  am  a  man  having  soldiers  under 
me ;  and  I  say  to  this  man,  Go,  and  he  goeth ;  and  to  an- 
other, Come,  and  he  cometh;  and  to  my  servant,  Do  this, 
and  he  doeth  it"— if  he  don't  he  goes  to  the  guard-house  or 
is  tied  up  by  the  thumbs.  The  inestimable  privilege  of 
commanding  one's  fellow-men,  and  possessing  the  power 
to  compel  prompt  and  unquestioning  obedience,  is  a 
luxury  to  be  found  nowhere  but  in  the  army. 

Everybody  was  at  high  pressure,  and  displayed  an 
energy  befitting  the  crisis.  The  wildest  rumors  concerning 
the  movements  of  the  rebel  army  and  the  desperate  state 
of  affairs  at  the  front,  went  from  lip  to  lip  and  found  plenty 
of  believers.     The  more  absurd  and  preposterous  they  were 


44  COMPANY   Q  IS   ORGANIZED.  / 

the  more  ready  credence  was  given  to  them.  In  this  way 
fresh  fuel  was  constantly  added  to  the  fires  that  raged 
with  quenchless  fury  in  the  breasts  of  those  men — they 
were  far  from  being  soldiers  yet.  The  climax  was  reached 
-when  somebody  started  the  rumor  that  the  rebels  had  set 
fire  to  the  Ohio  river  and  burned  it ;  that  they  were  march- 
ing over  dry-shod,  in  swarms  as  countless  as  the  locusts 
of  Egypt  or  the  grasshoppers  of  Kansas,  and  were  sweep- 
ing up  through  Indiana  at  the  rate  of  twenjty  miles  an  hour. 
In  calmer  moments  the  incongruities  of  this  intelligence 
might  have  been  detected,  but  in  the  seething  excitement 
they  were  not  thought  of,  and  the  startling  news  was  re- 
ceived as  gospel  truth.  Every  one  who  repeated  it  added 
thousands  to  the  invading  host  and  miles  to  the  hourly 
rate  at  which  it  was  approaching.  Then  the  men  began 
to  inquire  impatiently  about  their  guns,  but  were  informed 
that  these  would  not  be  furnished  until  they  reached  the 
army.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  grumbling  at  this,  for  the 
first  thing  that  a  recruit  alwa\^s  wanted  was  to  get  hold 
of  something  to  shoot  with.  The  prospect  that  in  their 
defenceless  condition  they  would  be  immediately  attacked 
by  the  enemy  had  a  highly  inflammatory  effect. 

Company  Q  went  through  the  form  of  '^electing"  its 
officers,  though  it  was  already  understood  who  they 
would  be,  and  their  commissions  had  been  duly  issued  by 
the  Governor.  It  was  a  harmless  fiction,  to  make  the 
members  of  the  company  think  they  had  something  to  say 
in  the  matter.  Then  the  boys  listened  ver}^  attentively 
while  the  newly  ''elected"  Captain  read  out  the  appoint- 
ments of  non-commissioned  officers — five  sergeants  and 
eight  corporals.  No  major-general  was  ever  prouder  of  his 
well-earned  stars  than  were  some  of  those  corporals  of  the 
chevrons  that  within  half  an  hour  decorated  the  sleeves 
of  their  blouses.  They  had  but  a  vague  notion  of  the 
official  functions  of  corporals,  but  they  stood  a  round  higher 
on  the  military  ladder  than  the  privates,  and  this  knowl- 


"ONLY  A   PRIVATE."  45 

edge  brought  with  it  a  consciousness  of  superiority,  and 
a  feeling  that  they  were  indispensable  to  the  prosecution 
of  the  war. 

Si  Klegg  stood  with  ears  agog  while  the  list  was  being 
read.  He  did  not  expect  to  hear  his  name  called  out  and 
so  he  suffered  no  disappointment.  In  this  respect  he  was 
more  fortunate  than  many  others,  who  thought  that  the 
captain  showed  very  poor  judgment  in  making  his  selec- 
tions. Si  had  no  more  thought  of  being  a  corporal  than 
he  had  of  being  a  brigadier,  and  he  was  perfectly  content 
to  let  his  name  remain  among  the  K's,  down  in  the  body 
of  the  company  roll.  The  captain  did  not  hit  the  bull's- 
e^^e  every  time  in  appointing  the  non-commissioned  officers 
—no  captain  ever  did  in  organizing  a  new  compan3^  Ex- 
ternal appearances  were  often  deceitful,  and  it  was  not  easy 
to  say  from  a  man's  looks  how  good  a  soldier  he  would 
make.  Like  tallow,  he  had  to  be  tried — and  in  the  fire,  too. 
A  3^ear  or  so  of  real  solid  service,  with  a  battle  or  a  skir- 
mish now  and  then,  aided  greatly  in  a  proper  solution  of 
the  question. 

The  quartermaster  was  up  to  his  ears  in  business, 
issuing  such  clothing  and  other  articles  as  the  men  needed 
to  complete  their  equipment.  When  the  new  orderly  of 
Company  Q  called  up  the  bo^^s  to  get  their  overcoats  there 
was  a  great  scramble.  The  orderly  handed  them  out  just 
as  they  came,  without  reference  to  size,  leaving  the  men  to 
fit  themselves  as  best  they  could  by  ''trading"  with  one 
another.  It  really  made  little  difference,  for  there  was  not 
much  "fit"  to  them  anyway;  but  when  a  fat  man  found 
himself  in  possession  of  a  coat  that  would  not  come 
together,  while  his  lean  comrade  had  one  that  reached  half 
way  around  the  second  time ;  when  a  tall  man  drew  a  very 
short  coat  and  a  short  man  a  very  long  one,  there  was 
need  for  a  harmonious  adjustment.  This  was  measurably 
accomplished  by  a  system  of  exchange,  but  of  necessity 


46 


NOT  "made  to   ORl^xiR." 


there  were  some  odd  ones  who  had  to  take  such  as  they 
could  get. 

Si's  circumference  of  body,  in  consequence  of  the  pleni- 
tude of  his  mother's  commissariat,  was  somewhat  in 
excess  of  its  due  proportion  to  his  height.  It  was  very 
likely  that  after  a  while  a  smaller  garment  would  hold 
him,  but  the  present  needs  of  his  well-rounded  form 
required  one  of  large  capacity.  When  he  found  one  that 
he  could  button  over  his  stomach  the  ''tails  "reached  to  his 

ankles.  His  sister  Maria  would 
.have  laughed  herself  into  hys- 
terics if  she  could  have  seen  him 
in  that  big  blue  coat.  Si  said 
confidentially  to  one  of  his  com- 
rades that  he  didn't  want  to 
begin  grumbling  right  off,  but 
he  should  think  they  might 
have  measured  him  and  made 
him  a  coat  that  would  fit  in- 
stead of  giving  him  such  a 
thing  as  that.  He  learned  in 
time  that  Uncle  Sam  did  not 
run  his  tailor  shop  on  that 
principle.  And  then  the  great 
unwieldy  cape  that  flapped 
about  his  arms — he  could  not 
imagine  what  that  was  for. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  cut  it 
off,  but  he  finally  thought  he 
would  wait  and  see,  as  they  were  all  made  that  way,  and 
there  must  be  some  mysterious  purpose  in  it.  He  did, 
however,  shorten  the  tails  a  foot  or  so  by  amputation 
with  his  knife. 

There  was  less  difficulty  with  the  blankets,  as  they  were 
all  alike  and  there  was  no  choice.  Si  thought  they 
were  much  the  same  as  the  horse  blankets  in  his  father's 


THE  ARMY  OVERCOAT. 


SI  DRAWS  A  KNAPSACK.  47 

bam.  He  wondered  if  they  would  get  curry-combs  with 
them.  When  he  first  spread  his  blanket  upon  the  ground 
to  see  how  it  looked  his  eye  caught  the  ''U.  S."  in  the 
center. 

"I  s'pose  that  means  they  b'long  to  ms,"  he  said,  "'n* 
they've  marked  'em  so  nobody  won't  steal  'em!" 

He  thought  this  was  an  excellent  idea,  and  showed 
the  care  and  thought  fulness  of  the  government  in  pro- 
viding for  the  soldiers.  He  contemplated  with  satisfac- 
tion the  fact  that,  so  far  as  the  blanket  was  concerned, 
he  would  have  an  advantage  over  the  tall  men,  as  he  could 
more  easily  keep  his  feet  warm. 

Then  the  knapsacks  were  distributed.  Si  had  never 
seen  one  before.  He  had  only  heard  there  was  such  a 
thing  that  a  soldier  carried  his  surplus  clothing  in.  He 
had  an  idea  it  was  built  something  like  a  trunk,  such  as 
other  people  used  when  they  traveled.  He  opened  it  out 
and  examined  with  curious  eye  its  great  ''pocket"  on  one 
side  and  its  flaps  and  straps  on  the  other.  He  stuffed  his 
blanket  into  the  pocket,  buckled  in  his  overcoat,  and 
then  tried  to  put  it  on  to  see  how  it  would  feel.  The  first 
time  he  stuck  his  arms  through  what  he  conceived  to  be 
the  places  intended  for  them,  the  knapsack  landed  squarely 
in  front  of  him.  This,  he  was  sure,  could  not  be  right,  and 
he  tried  it  again.  He  got  mixed  up  in  a  chaos  of  straps 
and  buckles  and  the  riotous  knapsack  dangled  under  one 
of  his  arms .  Extricating  himself,  he  laid  it  upon  the  ground 
and  prepared  for  another  trial. 

''I'll  git  the  durned  thing  on  'f  it  takes  t'll  Christmas!'* 
he  exclaimed. 

After  another  examination  of  the  perverse  contrivance, 
bethought  he  had  found  the  correct  theory  of  putting  it  on. 
Swinging  it  up  to  his  shoulders,  and  leaning  far  forward 
that  it  might  the  more  easily  be  kept  in  its  position  until 
he  could  make  the  necessary  connection,  he  thrust  one 
arm  through  the  closed  strap,  holding  it  up  from  the  rear 


48  TRYING    rO  "GET  THE  HANG  "  OF  IT. 

with  his  other  hand,  almost  unjointing  his  shoulder. 
Then  he  tried  to  fasten  the  hook  and  had  nearly  succeeded 
when  the  knapsack  gave  a  great  lurch,  as  the  cargo  of  a 
ship  shifts  in  a  storm,  and  rolled  to  leeward.  It  carried 
him  off  his  balance,  and  knapsack  and  Si  went  down  upon 
the  ground  all  in  a  heap. 

Si  was  not  in  the  habit  of  losing  his  temper,  but  as  he 
again  got  upon  his  feet  there  were  sj^mptoms  of  fermenta- 
tion. He  began  to  utter  language  as  expressive  as  his 
Sunday  school  instruction  would  permit,  when  one  of  his 

comrades  approached, 
laughing  heartily  at 
the  result  of  his  tussle 
with  the  knapsack. 

"Lemme  help  ye  git 
the  hang  of  it,  pardi" 
he  said. 

The  speaker  was  lank 
and  lean,  and  his  well- 
tanned  face  gave  evi- 
dence of  much  exposure 
to  wind  and  sun.  He 
was  a  kind  of  "black 
sheep"  in  the  company. 
Whence  he  came  no  one 
SI  FINDS  HIS  MATCH.  kucw.    Hc  cntcrcd  the 

recruiting  office  one  daA^  and  enlisted  in  Company  Q  in  a 
business-like  \va\%  as  if  he  knew  just  what  he  was  doing. 
The  boys  dubbed  him  "Shorty"  because  he  was  so  tall— or 
rather  he  looked  so  on  account  of  his  thinness.  Si  had  no 
acq[uaintance  with  him,  and  they  had  not  even  spoken 
together  before. 

"Thank'ee;  don't  keer  'f  ye  do!"  replied  Si.  "I  didn't 
s'pose  the  thing  'd  floor  me  that  way.  Sh'd  think  they 
mout  git  up  some  better  contraption  'n  that !" 

"I  reck'n  thev  couldn't  do  no  better  considerin',"  said 


"SHORTY.' 


49 


Shorty.  It's  easy  'nough  when  ye  larn  how.  Ye  see  I  was 
out  a  while  when  the  war  fust  started  'nthe  three  months' 
sarvice,  'n'  I  picked  up  a  Httle  suthin  'bout  soldierin'.  I 
hap'n'd  ter  strike  the  town  that  day  I  jined  Comp'ny  Q, 
'n'  I  jest  tuk  a  notion  ter  give  her  'nother  turn.  Now  this 
's  the  way  ter  sling  a  knapsack." 

Short}^  first  put  it  on  himself,  showing  Si  how  to  take 
hold  of  it,  swing  it  up  into  position  and  fasten  the  end  of 
the  strap  under  his  arm. 

"I  don't  see  nothin' the  mat- 
ter with  that,"  exclaimed  Si. 
"I  kin  do  that  'n'  not  half 
try!" 

Shorty  took  it  off  in  sol- 
dierly style  and  laid  it  upon 
the  ground.  Si  then  renew- 
ed the  encounter,  determined 
that  he  would  not  let  it  get 
away  with  him  this  time. 
With  a  little  help  from  Shorty 
he  succeeded,  and  marched 
around  with  the  great  lump 
on  his  back,  and  a  smile  of 
satisfaction  at  the  achieve- 
ment of  his  first  victory. 

''It's  goin'  ter  be  jest  fun 
ter  carry  this  thing, "  he  said. 
*'I've  heern  tell  't  someo'the 
soljers  makes  a  right  smart 

o'  fuss  'bout  luggin'  the'r  knapsacks,  but  't  seems 
jest  enj'y  it." 

''I  hope  ye  will,"  was  Shorty's  only  answer, 
not  want  to  dampen  the  ardor  of  the  ambitious  young 
recruit. 

"P'r'aps  ye  kin  tell  a  feller  what  this  is,"  Si  said  to 
Shorty,  as  the  orderly  handed  him  a  piece  of  rubber  cloth, 


SHORTY. 


if  I'd 


He  did 


50 

six  feet  long  by  four  feet  wide,  with  a  slit  eighteen  inches 
in  length  running  crosswise  in  the  center.  Si  thought 
there  was  no  end  to  the  curious  things  he  ^was  getting  for 
his  outfit. 

*' That's  a  poncho,"  replied  Shorty. 

**  What  makes  'em  call  it  that,  'n'  what's  it  fer  ?" 

*'I  reck'n  they  calls  it  a  poncho  'cause  that's  its  name," 
said  Shorty.  ''Ye  don't  want  ter  stick  up  yer  nose  at  it, 
nuther,  fer  it'll  come  'bout  's  handy  to  ye  's  an;^d:hing  ye'll 
git.  It's  mighty  good  ter  spread  on  the  ground  under  yer 
blanket  when  ye  goes  ter  bed.  Ye  know  wet  won't  soak 
through  Injy-rubber,  'n'  it'll  help  pervent  ye  ketchin'  the 
rumaticks.  'Sides  that,  w^hen  jq  have  ter  lie  down  'n  the 
mud  it  keeps  yer  blanket  clean.  Then  when  ye're  marchin' 
in  the  rain  it  beats  'n  umbreller  all  holler.  Y''e  jest  take  it 
this  way." 

Shorty  proceeded  to  illustrate  his  lecture  on  the  value  of 
the  article  by  thrusting  his  head  through  the  slit.  The 
poncho  fell  loosely  around  him  from  his  shoulders,  extend- 
ing as  far  down  as  the  knees,  before  and  behind,  and 
covering  him  as  a  mantle— not  wholly  unlike  that  fantastic 
achievement  of  the  modern  dressmaker,  the  "Mother  Hub- 
bard." With  the  "  gum  "  side  outward  it  gave  promise  of 
excellent  protection  from  rain. 

Then  Si  put  it  on  and  promenaded  around  as  proud  as  a 
peacock.  He  could  hardly  find  words  strong  enough  to 
express  his  admiration  for  a  government  that  had  provided 
so  bountifully  for  him. 

"I  don  .  keer  'f  it  rains  pitchforks,"  he  said,  "  's  long  's 
I've  got  this  thing." 

Every  hour  Si  felt  more  and  more  glad  that  he  had 
enlisted ;  he  was  going  to  have  such  a  nice  time  of  it. 

Shorty  did  not  exaggerate  the  value  of  this  item  in  the 
soldier's  wardrobe.  Its  ofiicial  name  was  the  "poncho," 
but  this  word  had  no  meaning  to  the  boys,  few  of  whom 
were  supplied  with  dictionaries,  and  they  always  called  it 


THE  INDISPENSABLE  HAVERSACK.  51 

the  *'gum  blanket."  The  specific  purposes  for  which  it 
was  made  were  those  described  by  Shorty,  but  it  had 
many  other  uses.  It  was  convenient  to  wrap  around  a 
quarter  of  pork  or  mutton  which  it  was  desired  to 
smuggle  into  camp.  It  was  provided  with  a  flap  and 
buttons  to  close  the  aperture  in  the  center,  and  was  handy 
to  carry  upon  the  shoulder  half  a  bushel  or  so  of  apples  or 
sweet  potatoes.  About  half  the  ponchos,  after  they 
had  been  in  service  a  few  months,  had  ''checker-boards" 
penciled  or  painted  on  them,  and  the  other  half  had  the 
necessary  squares  and  figures  for  ''chuck-a-luck,"  "sweat," 
''Honest  John,"  and  other  fascinating  games  that  tended 
to  impoverish  those  who  were  addicted  to  them. 

Another  detail  returned  from  a  visit  to  the  quarter- 
master, and  the  orderly  began  to  hand  around  to  each 
man  a  white  canvas  bag  that  would  hold  about  a  peck, 
with  a  strap  attached  to  opposite  sides. 

"What's  this?"  asked  Si  of  his  new  acquaintance, 
who  was  standing  near  as  one  of  the  bags  was  given  to 
him. 

"  That's  yer  haversack !" 

"But  what's  it /er.^" 

"Ter  carry  yer  grub  in!"replied  Shorty.  "If  ye've  got  's 
good  a  appetite  's  I  think  ye  hev  f 'm  yer  looks,  ye  can't 
git  'long  'thout  that,  nohow.  Ye  may  see  the  time  't  ye'11 
wish  ye  had  more  ter  put  in  it ;  but  jest  let  me  tell  ye  tei 
hang  outer  yer  haversack  through  thick  'n'  thin.  It'll 
be  the  best  friend  ye'll  find  in  the  army." 

Si  readily  coincided  with  his  comrade's  views  concerning 
its  value,  and  inwardly  resolved  that  whatever  might 
betide  he  would  stick  to  his  haversack,  and  defend  it 
with  his  life.  He  thought  it  was  very  nice,  it  looked  so 
white  and  clean. 

There  were  haversacks— and  haversacks.  Theoretically 
they  were  all  water-proof,  but  practically  they  were  quite 
the  reverse,  particularly  after  they  had  become  a  little  worn.' 


52  EDUCATING  THE  SENSES. 

A  penetrating  rain  storm  was  very  likeh^  to  make  a  sorry 
mess  of  their  contents.  Some  of  them  were  black  and 
some  were  white — ^that  is  to  say,  they  were  white  when 
new.  B}^  the  time  one  of  these  had  been  in  use  for  a  few 
wrecks  as  a  receptacle  for  chunks  of  fat  bacon  and  fresh 
meat,  damp  sugar  tied  up  in  a  rag — perhaps  a  piece  of  an 
old  shirt — potatoes  and  other  vegetables  that  might*  be 
picked  up  along  the  route,  it  took  on  the  color  of  a  print- 
ing-office towel.  It  would  have  been  alike  offensive  to  the 
eyes  and  nose  of  a  fastidious  person.  Yerj-likeh^  he  would 
have  gone  hungry  a  good  while  before  he  could  bring  him- 
self to  eat  anything  out  of  it.  But  the  educated  taste  of 
the  veteran  soldier  disdained  all  such  squeamishness. 
When  his  regiment  halted  he  would  drop  by  the  road- 
side, draw  his  grimy  and  well-greased  haversack  around  in 
front  of  him,  and  from  its  dark  and  odorous  recesses  bring 
forth  Avhat  tasted  better  to  him  than  the  daintiest  morsel 
to  the  palate  of  an  epicure.  It  was  all  in  getting  used  to 
such  things. 

If  at  this  time  one  of  the  war-worn  haversacks  that  went 
through  "to  the  Sea"  had  been  laid  before  Si  Klegg  at 
dinner  time,  he  would  have  placed  his  fingers  to  his  nose 
and  turned  awa^^  in  dire  disgust,  saying:  "Is  th^-  servant 
a  dog  that  he  should  do  this  thing  ?"  It  would  be  all  right 
after  a  while,  but  he  would  have  to  come  to  it  gradually. 
"Rome  was  not  built  in  a  day;"  no  more  did  a  soldier 
learn  in  that  limited  time  to  eat  a  campaign  meal  out  of 
one  of  those  fearful  haversacks  and  be  thankful.  Some- 
times a  stray  recruit  joined  a  veteran  company.  His 
hands  were  v^hite,  his  face  clean,  and  his  appetite  had 
been  pampered  by  home  diet.  For  a  time  he  \vas  alto- 
gether too  "nice"  and  particular,  and  the  old  soldiers 
treated  with  withering  scorn  such  symptoms  of  effeminacy. 

Now  and  then,  in  a  spasm  of  reform,  a  man  would  try 
to  wash  his  haversack,  but  the  laundry  facilities  of  the 
army  were  sadly  defective,   and  only  indifferent  results 


A   VARIETY  IN   HAVERSACKS.  53 

were  attained.  The  original  whiteness  of  that  haversack 
was  gone  forever.  If  it  showed  an  improved  appearance, 
it  was  but  brief  and  delusive.  It  was  soon  blacker  than 
before,  and  the  last  state  of  that  haversack  was  worse 
than  the  first. 

The  only  superiority  of  the  haversack  made  of  black 
material  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  effects  of  use  were  not  so 
plain  to  the  eye.  The  grease  and  dirt  were  there  just  the 
same,  but  they  did  not*  show,  and  less  violence  was  done 
to  one  of  the  senses.  As  far  as  the  nose  was  concerned, 
there  was  no  difference.  Indeed,  the  combination  of  smells 
from  the  black  haversack  was  apt  to  be  the  more  pungent 
and  overwhelming,  because  its  uncleanness  was  less  ap- 
parent to  the  eye,  and,  therefore,  liable  to  be  neglected.  It 
should  be  understood  that  these  conditions  did  not  exist 
to  such  a  degree  when  the  soldiers  were  lying  in  camp, 
with  opportunities  to  keep  themselves  and  their  belong- 
ings in  a  state  of  cleanliness,  and  to  supply  themselves 
with  new  articles  of  equipment  when  needed.  It  was 
when,  for  weeks  at  a  time,  they  were  on  the  march  and  the 
picket-hne,  and  lying  in  the  trenches,  day  and  night— when 
considerations  of  personal  comfort  were  sunk  in  the  one 
all-pervading  purpose  to  fight  the  enemy  and  end  the  war. 

A  new  officer  generally  provided  himself  with  a  shiny, 
patent-leather  haversack  that  would  hold  a  day's  rations, 
and  had  a  convenient  pocket  in  which  he  might  carry  a 
flask — for  medicinal  purposes— while  his  reserve  supplies 
were  transported  in  a  wagon  or  upon  the  strong  shoulders 
of  a  burly  ''contraband."  A  thorough  soaking  was 
enough  to  use  up  one  of  these  dainty  affairs,  and  during 
the  long  campaigns  the  officer  was  glad  enough  to  throw 
one  of  the  regulation  haversacks  over  his  shoulder  and 
take  ''pot-luck"  with  the  boys. 

The  next  addition  to  Si's  outfit  was  a  canteen.  This 
was  a  simple  article,  made  of  tin  and  covered  with  cloth, 
shaped  like  the  earth,  except  that  it  was  a  good  deal  more 


64  THE  CANTEEN. 

'•flattened  at  the  poles,"  and  with  a  cloth  strap  running 
around  at  the  equator  by  which  it  was  suspended  over 
one  shoulder  and  carried  against  the  opposite  hip.  It 
would  hold  about  three  pints.  Of  course,  Si  had  to  put  it 
on  and  wear  it  a  w^hile.  Every  new  thing  he  received  was 
a  source  of  wonder  and  delight  to  him,  gratif\ang  his 
curiosity  and  making  him  feel  more  like  a  soldier.  Ever 
since  he  signed  the  roll  of  Company  Q  he  had  been  im- 
patient for  the  day  when  he  should  be  arrayed  in  all  the 
panoply  of  war. 

The  canteen  was  the  natural  complement  of  the  haver- 
sack. These  two  articles  of  equipage  were  as  inseparable 
and  as  necessary  to  each  other  as  the  two  boots  of  a  pair. 
When  a  soldier  lost  either  of  them  by  the  casualties  of  war, 
he  gave  no  sleep  to  his  eyes  nor  slumber  to  his  eyelids  until 
the  vacuum  in  his  accouterments  was  filled.  If  a  soldier 
had  to  have  anything,  he  generallv  got  it  bv  fair  means  or 
foul. 

The  uses  of  the  canteen  were  manifold.  Its  chief  duty  as 
a  factor  in  the  war  was  the  transportation  of  water, 
although  it  was  found  equally  adapted  to  carr^ang  some 
other  things.  It  came  handy  to  the  forager  for  milk,  cider 
or  molasses.  In  very  rare  instances  it  was  also  used  for 
liquids  of  a  more  vigorous  and  searching  character  than 
any  of  these — for  now  and  then  a  man  found  his  way  into 
the  army  who  was  not  a  member  in  good  standing  of  a 
temperance  society. 

A  peculiarity  of  the  canteen  was  that  its  usefulness  did 
not  end  when  it  was  no  longer  fit  to  serve  in  its  legitimate 
sphere.  When  a  lot  of  them  became  battered  and  leaky, 
and  the  company  commander  wanted  to  drop  them  from 
his  monthly  return  of  government  property  for  which  he 
was  responsible,  he  would  have  them  duly  condemned  by 
a  board  of  officers  appointed  to  hold  a  solemn  inquest 
upon  them.  These  regulation  forms  having  been  com- 
plied with,  the  old  canteens  were  eagerly  sought  after 


ITS  POSTHUMOUS  USES.  55 

by  the  soldiers,  who  were  now  at  liberty  to  make  such  use 
of  them  as  their  ingenuity  might  suggest. 

The  necessities  and  deprivations  of  active  campaigning 
developed  among  the  veterans  a  wonderful  fertility  of 
resource.  Under  such  circumstances  men  become  intensely 
practical.  Everything  that  could  in  any  way  contribute 
to  human  welfare  and  comfort  was  brought  into  play, 
and  the  makeshifts  resorted  to  were  often  startling  and 
ludicrous. 

The  old  canteen  was  thrown  into  the  fire  and  the  heat 
soon  melted  the  solder  by  which  the  halves  were  joined, 
and  the  soldier  found  himself  in  possession  of  two  tin 
basins  eight  or  ten  inches  across  and  in  the  center  about 
two  inches  deep.  One  of  these  he  carried  day  after  day  in 
his  haversack.  It  was  not  often  that  the  latter  was  so  full 
of  provisions  that  there  was  not  plenty  of  room  for  it.  Its 
weight  was  nothing,  and  he  found  it  useful  in  ways  that 
the  man  who  made  it  never  thought  of. 

The  government  forgot  to  supply  the  soldiers  with  wash- 
basins, and  the  half-canteen  made  a  convenient  substitute. 
It  was  a  trifle  small,  it  is  true,  but  by  being  frequently  re- 
plenished it  answered  the  purpose  admirably.  After  the 
man  had  finished  his  ablutions  he  would  rinse  it  out  with 
a  dash  of  water — or  if  he  was  too  hungry  to  do  this  it  was 
a  matter  of  small  moment— split  the  end  of  a  stick  for  a 
handle,  and  he  had  a  frying-pan— a  prime  article.  Tons 
and  tons  of  the  flesh  of  swine  were  fried  in  the  half-canteen, 
not  to  mention  the  pieces  of  chicken  and  the  succulent 
vegetables  that  were  in  this  way  prepared  for  eating.  If 
he  drew  coffee  in  a  ''raw"  state,  the  half-canteen  was  an 
excellent  roaster.  Now  and  then  it  came  handy  for  cook- 
ing "flapjacks,"  when  he  chanced  to  get  hold  of  something 
of  which  to  make  them.  In  the  fall,  when  the  corn  in  the 
fields  was  hardening,  he  took  a  half-canteen,  stabbed  it  full 
of  holes  with  his  bayonet,  from  the  inside,  and  the  convex 
surface  made  an  excellent  grater,  and  a  dish  of  "samp" 


56 


THE  ARTIST  S   VIEW  OF   IT. 


relieved  the  everlasting  monotony  of  regulation  diet.    Even 
ripe  corn  was  thus  grated  into  a  sort  of  meal  from  which 
mush  and  indescribable  cakes  were  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made. 
Indeed,  for  months  at  a  time,  a  half-canteen  and  an  old 


USEFUL  CAREER  OF   THE   CANTEEN. 

fruit-can,  in    which  to  boil  coffee,   comprised   his  entire 
culinary  "kit."    They  were  simple  but  they  were  enough, 
and  in  their  possession  he  was  happy.    The  nice  coifee-pot 
and  frying-pan  that  he  once  owned  had  long  since  stic 
cumbed  to  the  vicissitudes  of  army  life. 


ORDERED  TO  THE  FRONT.  57 

Sometimes  the  veteran  found  himself  suddenly  placed  in 
a  position  where  he  wanted  something  between  himself 
and  the  muskets  of  the  enemy,  and  he  wanted  it  right  off. 
There  was  no  time  to  send  back  to  the  rear  for  picks  and 
shovels.  With  a  bayonet  to  loosen  the  dirt  he  scratched  out 
a  hole  with  his  half-canteen,  and,  with  the  aid  of  a  log  or 
two  or  three  rails  or  a  few  stones,  against  which  he  threw 
the  earth,  he  had  a  safe  protection  from  bullets.  In  this 
way  a  line  of  experienced  skirmishers  would  burrow  into 
the  ground  and  almost  disappear  from  sight  with  a  quick- 
ness that  was  amazing. 

Illustrations  of  the  clever  uses  of  the  old  canteen  might 
be  almost  indefinitely  multiplied.  Si  Klegg  had  but  the 
faintest  idea  of  the  many  ways  in  which  that  simple  article 
of  his  outfit  would  prove  to  him  ''a  friend  in  need  "  during 
his  devious  wanderings  as  he  followed  the  flag  of  the  200th 
Indiana. 

Toward  evening  came  by  telegraph  the  expected  order  to 
take  the  cars  at  once  for  the  front.  The  emergency  w^as 
becoming  hourly  more  pressing.  There  seemed  a  strong 
probability  that  the  regiment  would  be  called  into  imme- 
diate service  of  the  most  active  kind.  If  so,  it  w^ould  take 
the  field  at  a  disadvantage,  not  having  had  an  hour's  drill 
or  a  syllable  of  military  instruction.  Most  of  the  regi- 
ments had  been  drilled  in  camp  a  few  weeks  before  leaving 
their  respective  States.  The  members  of  the  200th  Indiana 
would,  however,  be  spared  much  of  the  mental  anxiety  and 
suffering  that  was  endured  through  the  slowly-dragging 
days  by  hundreds  of  thousands  while  they  were  held  in 
camp  like  impatient  hounds  in  leash,  lest  the  war  would  be 
over  before  they  could  get  there. 

So  the  order  to  move  was  received  w^th  uproarious 
cheering.  Th«  fledgelings  were  panting  to  '^see  the 
elephant,"  and  there  was  good  prospect  that  they  would 
soon  gaze  upon  him  in  all  his  glory  and  magnitude.  There 
was  much  hubbub  during  the  brief  time  allowed  the  men 


58  A  GENERAL  HUSTLE. 

to  get  themselves  in  readiness.  The  officers  seemed  to 
consider  it  necessary  to  make  a  good  deal  of  fuss,  and 
they  stormed  around  in  a  convulsive  way,  shouting  their 
orders  to  the  men.  The  sergeants  and  corporals  had  a 
misty  idea  that  they  ought  to  do  something  by  virtue  of 
their  positions  and  the  honors  that  had  been  heaped  upon 
them,  and  their  voices  helped  to  swell  the  din.  A  day's 
ration  of  "soft  bread"  and  cooked  meats  was  issued  to 
supply  the  wants  of  the  men  during  the  trip  by  rail.  Most 
of  them  had  no  need  for  this,  however,  as  they  had  brought 
from  home  that  morning  pie  and  cake  and  other  food,  as 
much  as  they  could  eat  in  a  week. 

Si  thought  he  had  better  take  all  the  provisions  he  could 
get,  and  stowed  his  portion  carefully  in  his  haversack. 
Then  he  filled  his  new  canteen  and  thought  he  would  take 
a  ''pull"  at  it  just  to  see  how  it  worked.  It  was  a  very 
small  thing — learning  how  to  drink  out  of  a  canteen — but 
there  were  many  whose  first  effort  to  do  this  was  not 
wholly  satisfactor^^  It  was  so  with  Si.  Without  a 
thought  that  there  was  an^^hing  to  learn  about  so  simple 
a  matter,  he  gayly  swung  up  the  canteen,  threw  back  his 
head,  rolled  his  eyes,  puckered  his  lips,  and  placed  the 
"nozzle  "  at  the  opening.  He  did  not  get  his  lips  fixed  just 
right,  and  from  the  sides  of  his  mouth  streams  of  cold 
water  went  streaking  down  his  neck  and  thence  traversing 
his  warm  body  and  bringing  up  in  his  shoes.  He  gave  a 
little  shiver  as  the  canteen  came  down  quicker  than  it 
went  up.  After  experimenting  with  some  caution  for  a 
minute  or  two,  he  caught  the  "knack"  of  suction  and  of 
staying  the  downward  rush  of  water,  and  the  problem 
was  solved.  Then  he  took  a  long  drink,  and  never  in  his 
life  had  water  tasted  half  so  good  to  him  as  when  it  came 
gurgling  and  fizzing  from  the  neck  of  that  canteen. 

Si  hastily  packed  in  his  knapsack  the  few  articles  of 
elothing  he  had  drawn,  rolled  up  his  blanket  and  strapped 


SI  LEARNS  TO  "DRESS  UP."  59 

it  in  its  place,  and  lie  was  ready  to  advance  upon  the 
enemy. 

''Company  Q— Fallin!"  shouted  the  captain,  impressively, 
as  the  drum  at  headquarters  gave  the  signal.  ''Orderly, 
form  the  company !" 

Now  the  orderly  sergeant  knew  just  as  much  about  cal- 
culating the  time  and  duration  of  the  next  eclipse  of  the 
moon  as  he  did  about  "forming  the  company." 

"Git  into  a  string,  you  fellers!"  he  exclaimed,  and  the 
Anen  huddled  together  in  a  state  of  almost  hopeless  an- 
arch}'. They  swa^^ed  and  bulged  and  surged  forward  and 
backward  in  the  vain  attempt  to  form  a  line.  The  orderly 
bustled  up  and  down  the  front  with  great  zeal,  judiciously 
distributing  pushes  and  punches  to  the  more  perverse 
ones,  all  the  time  exercising  his  tongue  in  a  manner  that 
was  highly  encouraging  for  future  usefulness.  The  captain 
was  about  as  ignorant  as  the  orderh^,  but  it  was  the  latter 's 
duty  to  form  the  company,  and  this  fact  let  the  captain 
out,  affording  a  convenient  cloak  to  hide  his  lack  of  knowl- 
edge. He  kindK'  went  to  the  orderly's  assistance,  backed 
by  the  two  lieutenants,  and  the  combined  efforts  of  the 
four  finaHy  brought  the  men  to  anchor  in  two  tolerably 
straight  "rows." 

"Dress  up,  there,  3'ou  Klegg!"  yelled  the  captain  with 
terrifying  vehemence. 

Si  tremblingly  began  to  examine  his  clothes.  A  hasty 
inspection  showed  him  that  they  were  in  proper  order. 

"Please,  sir,"  he  said  with  some  hesitation,  "I  don't  see 
how  I  can  be  any  more  '  dressed  up  '  'n  I  am,  'thout  I  gits 
some  nicer  clothes !" 

"Silence!"  roared  the  captain.  "Don't  you  know  that 
*  dress  up  '  means  to  get  into  a  straight  line?" 

"Nobod}^  never  told  me,"  replied  Si. 

"Not  another  word,  sir.  I've  told  you  now  and  that's 
enough.  Ye've  got  to  learn  that  there  ain't  to  be  any 
back  talk,  either." 


60  MUSTERED  INTO  SERVICE. 

Si  was  naturally  impulsive  and  quick  to  resent  any 
attempt  to  impose  upon  him.  He  wanted  to  say  some- 
thing in  reply,  but  on  second  thought  concluded  he  had 
better  keep  quiet.  He  did  think,  however,  that  the  cap- 
tain need  not  have  made  so  much  ado  about  it. 

Si  had  met  at  the  very  threshold — as  did  many  others- 
one  of  the  most  difficult  lessons  to  be  learned  before  he 
could  be  a  perfect  soldier.  It  was  not  an  easy  matter  for 
volunteers  of  such  a  class  as  largely  composed  the  Union 
army  to  submit,  without  question  or  reply,  to  the  moods 
and  whims  of  those  who  were  in  no  way  their  superiors, 
save  in  a  military  sense,  and  to  ^aeld  implicit  obedience  to 
their  commands — to  sink  the  individual  in  the  soldier. 
Some  never  succeeded  in  this. 

The  adjutant  and  sergeant-major  had  as  much  trouble 
in  forming  the  regiment  as  the  orderly  did  in  getting  com- 
pany Q  into  line,  but  it  was  accomplished  after  much  trib- 
ulation. 

Before  starting  it  was  necessarj^ — according  to  ''Regula- 
tions"— that  the  men  should  be  formalh^  mustered  into 
the  service  of  the  United  States.  Under  the  circumstances 
it  was  determined  to  muster  the  whole  regiment  in  a 
'Mump,  "instead  of  in  detail  b\^  companies.  As  soon  as  the 
line  was  formed  the  pompous  mustering  officer  appeared, 
in  tow  of  the  colonel. 

"What  they  goin'  ter  do  now?"  Si  Klegg  asked  of 
Shorty. 

"I  reck'n  we're  goin'  ter  git  mustered,"  was  the  reply. 

"It'll  be  kind  o'  nice,"  said  Si,  "ter  have  mustard  t'  eat 
on  biled  ham — fer  I  s'pose  the  guvyment  '11  give  us  ham 
once  'n  a  while — but  I  hain't  got  nothin'  ter  carry  it  in." 

"'Taint  that,"  replied  Shorty,  laughing;  "it's  only  jest 
a  leetle  red-tape  pufformance  't  clenches  the  nail  't  the 
'listin'  ossifer  druv  into  ye,  'n'  fixes  ye  so  ye  can't  git  out 
'less  ye  git  shot  out.  That's  what  they  calls  gittin'  mus- 
tered.   But  come  ter  think  on't,  yer  idee  wa'n't  fur  out  o' 


AWAY  TO  THE  TENTED  FIELD.  61 

the  way.  Ye  gits  mustered  now  'n'  ye're  likely  ter  git 
peppered  \vlien  3^e  strike  the  rebils,  'n  mebbe  ye'll  get  salted 
down  for  keeps.  There  ain't  much  danger  't  ye  won't  be 
purty  well  seasoned  'fore  ye  git  through  'th  this  thing." 

The  ceremony  lasted  but  a  few  minutes  and  then  all  was 
ready  for  the  start.  The  colonel  and  the  field  and  staff 
officers,  on  gaily  caparisoned  horses,  pranced  around,  the 
band  struck  up  a  liveh^  march,  and,  amidst  the  cheers  of 
the  spectators  and  the  responsive  shoutsof  the  soldiers,  the 
column  moved  off. 

The  knapsacks  were  not  very  heavy,  as  they  contained 
nothing  but  clothing.  Si  had  not  opened  the  box  he 
brought  from  home,  and  had  some  concern  respecting 
its  fate.  He  was  reassured  by  the  information  that,  as 
there  had  been  no  opportunity^  for  the  men  to  put  their 
things  in  order,  all  the  baggage  would  accompany  the 
regiment  to  its  first  stopping  place,  where  its  equipment 
would  be  fulh^  provided. 

The  train  had  been  reported  to  be  in  readiness  at  the 
railway  station,  but  of  course  it  wasn't;  nobody  ever 
heard  of  such  a  thing.  The  regiment  had  to  wait  and 
stand  around  for  two  hours  before  it  received  the 
welcome  order,  "All  aboard!"  It  was  after  dark  when 
the  eager  men  packed  themselves  into  the  cars  for  an  all- 
night  ride.  The  two  engines  whistled  and  coughed,  the 
people  hurrahed  and  waved  hats  and  handkerchiefs ^  the 
soldiers  thrust  their  heads  out  of  the  windows  and  yelled 
—and  the  200th  Indiana  was  off  to  the  war. 


CHAPTER  V. 

In  Which  the  Bright  Colors  that  Fancy  Painted  Begin  to  Fade— 
The  Soldier  and  his  "  Pard"— HowSi  was  Led  From  the  Straight 
AND  Narrow  Way  of  Soldierly^  Rectitude. 

THERE  was  little  sleep  on  the  train  that  night.  The 
boys  fought  imaginary  battles  and  yelled  and  sang 
and  laughed  at  one  another's  jests.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  the  members  of  the  200th  Indiana  found  another 
occasion  for  such  hilarity — not  till  those  that  were  left  of 
them  went  home  at  the  close  of  the  war. 

''There  won't  be  so  much  laughing  in  a  few  days,"  said 
the  colonel,  "let  'em  enjoy  themselves  while  they  can!" 

A  few  were  sober  and  thoughtful,  realizing  that  eYer}^' 
moment  was  bringing  them  nearer  to  scenes  of  danger  and 
death.  Some  wanted  to  sleep  as  best  they  could  in  the 
crowded  seats,  but  this  was  impossible  in  the  universal 
tumult  of  mirth  and  jollity  that  prevailed.  At  frequent 
intervals  the  soldiers  stirred  up  the  musicians  to  play  mar- 
tial airs,  and  the  roar  of  the  fast  speeding  train  was  drowned 
by  rattling  drums  and  screaming  fifes  and  the  shouts  evoked 
by  the  inspiring  strains.  One  would  hardly  ftave  thought 
those  men  were  going  to  war  to  kill  and  be  killed;  but 
that  was  the  v^ay  all  the  regiments  went  out. 

Si  had  for  his  seat-mate  his  new  friend  Shorty,  who  had 
volunteered  to  help  him  out  of  his  quandary  with  the  knap- 
sack. He  was  taken  with  his  kindly  ways,  notwithstand- 
ing his  rough  exterior,  and  was  quite  disposed  to  improve 

&2 


si's  first  view  of  war.  63'. 

the  acquaintance.  Si  was  an  active  and  noisy  participant, 
in  the  night's  merriment,  and  in  the  morning  he  felt  consid- 
erably fagged.  He  told  Shorty  that  he  thought  on  the 
whole  they  had  had  a  pretty  hard  time  of  it. 

About  breakfast  time  the  regiment  reached  its  immediate 
destination.  As  the  men  aHghted  from  the  train  they 
found  themselves  surrounded  by  reminders  of  war.  They 
had  reached  the  grand  army  of  which  each  of  them  was 
to  become  an  atom.  Thenceforward  they  were  to  be  iden- 
tified with  its  history— its  triumphs  and  its  defeats.  There 
were  soldiers  everywhere,  engaged  in  the  various  duties 
incident  to  preparation  for  a  great  campaign.  The  streets 
of  the  city  were  full  of  wagons  loaded  with  ammunition, 
food,  clothing,  forage  and  army  supplies  of  all  kinds.  On 
every  hand  were  heard  the  yell  of  the  mule-driver  and  the 
crack  of  his  whip.  There  were  officers  of  every  grade 
dashing  about,  cavalrymen  with  clanking  sabers  galloping 
hither  and  thither,  artillery  rumbling  over  the  pavements, 
and  bodies  of  infantry  moving  from  point  to  point.  All 
was  bustle  and  confusion,  such  as  the  eyes  of  these  new 
soldiers  had  never  looked  upon  before. 

Si  Klegg  was  keenly  interested  in  all  that  he  saw  and 
heard.  To  him  there  was  a  fascination  in  this  pomp 
and  display— the  uniforms,  the  glittering  bayonets,  the 
men  marching  with  measured  tread,  and  the  bespangled 
officers— that  bound  him  as  with  a  spell.  At  last  had 
come  the  realization  oi  his  romantic  dreams.  He  could 
scarcely  wait  until  he  should  have  a  gun  to  put  on  his 
shoulder. 

'* Hello,  sonny,  does  yer  mother  know  ye're  out?" 
It  was  very  cruel  to  say  this  to  Si,  as  he  stood  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  and  with  open  mouth  and  eyes  gazing 
in  astonishment  at  the  scenes  around  him.  The  man  who 
said  it  was  a  rusty-looking  soldier  who,  with  a  few  of  his 
comrades,  chanced  to  pass  that  way. 

*'Yes,  mother  said  I  mi^ht  come!"  said  Si,  innocently. 


64 


HIS  TEMPER  IS  RUFFLED. 


Then  the  veterans  laughed  loudly  and  stopped  to  ''haye 
some  fun."  Si  could  not  for  his  life  see  anything  for  them 
to  laugh  at. 

''Say,  bub,  give  us  a  hunk  o'  gingerbread!" 
''  Look  at  the  big  ridgment  o'  tenderfoots !    Won't  thej 
be  a-humpin'  one  o'  these  days  ?" 
''Jest  see  them  paper  collars !" 
"Had  any  hardtack  yet?" 

Si  did  not  comprehend  the  army  lingo.     It  was  as  if 

they  had  spoken  to 
him  in  an  unknown 
tongue.  But  he 
found  that  thev 
were  making  game 
of  him  and  then  his 
wrath  began  to 
I  rise.  In  fact,  he 
went  so  far  as  to 
express  a  willing- 
ness to  fight  the 
entire  squad.  His 
eyes  flashed  as  he 
said  to  them : 

"I've  come  down 
here  to  do  some 
fightin',  'n'  I'd  jest 
like  to  git  m}^  hand 
in!" 

si's  first  encounter  with  the  veterans.       This  warlike  dem- 
onstration was  greeted  with  jeers  and  shouts  of  laughter. 
"Better  save  what  sand  ye've  got,  young  feller,"  said 
one  of  them,  "ye'll  have  need  fer  it  'fore  long." 

A  hand  was  laid  upon  Si's  arm,  and  Shorty  drew  him 
aside. 

"  I  don't  blame  ye  fer  gittin' mad.  Si, "  he  said,  "  but  it  don't 
alius  pay.    When  the  odds  is  too  big  ye  can't  do  nothin* 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED  WITH  THE  VETERANS.  65 

but  grin  'n'  b'ar  it.  Them  fellers  don't  mean  no  harm. 
They  has  ter  have  the'r  fun  when  they  gits  a  chance ;  they 
look  's  if  they  hadn't  been  havin'  much  on  it  lately.  Ef  ye 
was  hungry,  the\''d  divide  their  last  cracker  with  ye;  'n' 
ef  ye  was  lyin'  sick  er  wounded  they'd  give  ye  all  the 
blankets  they  had,  ef  ye  needed  'em.  Soldiers  is  queer 
bein's  'n'  ye  have  ter  git  so  ye  kin  understand  'em." 

Shorty's  homely  philosoph}^  had  its  designed  effect  and 
Si  soon  recovered  his  equanimit3^  When  his  tormen- 
tors found  him  laughing  at  their  good-natured  badinage, 
they  left  him  and  turned  their  fire  upon  others. 

These  men  had  been  in  active  service  for  a  year.  Their 
clothing  and  their  faces  and  hands  gave  abundant  evidence 
that  they  had  been  somewhere.  Si  eyed  them  curiouslv 
and  he  wondered  if  he  would  ever  be  like  them. 

"Attention,  Company  Q  !  " 

The  regiment  formed  and  marched  out  two  or  three 
miles  to  the  place  assigned  it  for  a  camp.  It  was  not  far 
to  march,  and  the  men  had  little  to  carry,  but  for  some 
reason  they  were  all  very  glad  when  they  got  there.  They 
had  a  slight  foretaste  of  how  hard  it  was  to  travel  "in 
harness."  After  reaching  the  outskirts  of  the  city  they 
saw  nothing  but  camps.  As  far  as  the  CA^e "could  reach  in 
every  direction,  the  white  villages  of  regiments  and  brig- 
ades dotted  every  field,  wood  and  hillside.  Si  wondered 
-v^^here  so  many  soldiers  came  from. 

The  aspect  of  the  200th  Indiana  "gave  it  away"  com- 
pletely. The  men  were  without  arms,  their  clothes  were 
new  and  their  faces  clean.  The  full  ranks  had  not  been 
scorched  and  shriveled  by  the  hot  blast  of  war.  There 
could  be  no  mistaking  the  fact  that  it  was  a  new  regiment 
just  from  home. 

The  veterans  would  always  rather  go  without  a  dinner 
than  to  miss  a  chance  to  "nag"  a  fresh  arrival  of  green 
soldiers.  It  was  the  height  of  enjoyment  to  stand  by  the 
roadside  as  they  trudged  by  and  assail  them  in  front 


66  THE  200TH  IN  A  DRIZZLE. 

flank  and  rear  with  pungent  remarks  and  questions 
clothed  in  all  the  luxuriant  beauty  of  the  army  vernacular. 
It  was  great  sport  for  the  veterans,  but  not  quite  so  funny 
for  their  victims. 

All  the  way  out  the  long-suffering  members  of  the  200th 
Indiana  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  tanned  and  bearded 
soldiers  of  the  crop  of  '61.  The  band  at  the  head  of  the 
column  kept  playing  defiantly,  but  it  did  not  take  the  men 
long  to  learn  that  it  was  the  part  of  wisdom  to  receive  in 
silence  the  *' slings  and  arrows"  that  were  constantly 
hurled  upon  them.  Perhaps  it  was  this  experience,  quite 
as  much  as  the  fatigue  of  the  march,  that  induced  the  feel- 
ing of  satisfaction  with  which  they  saw  first  the  colonel  and 
then  the  band  file  off  the  road,  indicating  that  the  halting 
place  had  been  reached.  A  cheer  started  at  the  head  of  the 
column  and  the  whole  regiment  joined  in  a  wild  shout  of 
joy. 

The  most  desirable  spots  for  camping  were  already 
occupied,  and  the  200th  was  obliged  to  content  itself  with 
a  cornfield.  Unfortunately  the  rain  began  to  fall  just  as 
it  broke  ranks.  It  was  not  a  hard  rain,  but  one  of  those 
exasperating  drizzles  so  destructive  to  the  Christian  vir- 
tues. When  it  had  to  rain — and  the  frequency  of  the  storms 
seemed  wholly  unnecessarj^ — the  soldier  would  rather 
have  it  pour  down  while  it  was  about  it  and  then  quit, 
than  to  endure  one  of  those  protracted  seasons  when  the 
water  oozed  slowly  from  the  low-hanging  clouds,  and 
dribbled  down,  filling  the  air  with  a  heavy  mist  that 
made  everything  cold  and  wet  and  clamm3^  Possibly  the 
human  race  may  have  been  in  some  degree  regenerated 
since  the  war,  but  at  that  time  there  were  few  men  living 
— and  they  all  stayed  at  home — who  could  pass  through  a 
day  or  two  of  such  experience  and  not  lose  control  of 
tongue  and  temper. 

The  members  of  the  200th  Indiana  were  indeed  in  a  sorry 
plight.    They  were  without  shelter,  as  their  tents  had  not 


67 

yet  arrived.  They  could  only  stand  around,  with  their 
heads  sticking  through  their  ponchos,  churning  the  soft 
earth  into  mud  with  their  restless  feet.  This  dismal  and 
unlocked  for  visitation  had  a  most  depressing  effect  upon 
their  spirits.  Their  mental  condition  was  in  marked  con- 
trast to  the  revelry  of  the  previous  night.  Most  of  them 
looked  as  if  they  would  like  to  take  the  next  train  for  In- 
diana, if  the  matter  of  return  tickets  had  not  been  entirely 
overlooked. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  justifiable  grumbling,  because 
tents  were  not  awaiting  the  regiment  upon  its  arrival,  as 
its  coming  was  known.  Such  a  thing,  however,  never  oc- 
curred during  the  war.  It  was  unheard  of  and  unthought 
of,  except  by  the  soldiers  who  happened  to  be  caught  as 
was  the  200th  Indiana.  A  great  many  things  might  have 
been  but  were  not,  on  account  of  the  kinks  in  the  red-tape 
in  which  every  department  of  the  army  v^as  tangled. 

So  a  thousand  men,  wet  and  disconsolate,  had  to  wait 
while  the  colonel  and  quartermaster  galloped  back  to 
town  after  tents.'  They  went  straight  to  headquarters 
and  made  application  for  them,  but  were  promptly  informed 
that  business  was  not  done  in  that  way.  A  requisition 
must  be  made  in  due  form,  according  to  regulations,  and 
must  be  approved  by  the  various  intermediate  commanders 
— brigade,  division,  corps  and  army.  In  vain  the  Colonel 
stormed,  and  declared  it  was  an  outrage  to  keep  his  men, 
who  v^ere  not  used  to  such  things,  standing  out  in  the 
rain  while  that  performance  was  being  gone  through  with. 
He  \\ranted  the  tents  and  would  furnish  the  papers  after- 
^ward.  But  the  laws  of  war  had  no  elasticity,  and  the 
colonel  and  quartermaster  were  obliged  to  go  back  and 
start  in  at  the  bottom.  It  took  them  two  hours  to  get 
around.  The  regiment  had  no  wagons  yet,  and  the  head 
quartermaster  did  consent  to  send  a  couple  of  teams  out 
to  the  camp  with  the  tents. 

Meanwhile,  the  men  of  the  200th  had  been  sloshing 


68 


A  SLOPPY  TIME. 


about  in  a  deplorable  state  of  mind  and  body.  It  was  a 
rude  awakening  from  their  dreams  to  the  stern  reality  of 
**  soldiering." 

''Are  we  goin'  ter  have  very  much  o'  this  kind  o' thing?" 
asked  Si,  as  he  stopd  with  the  water  slowly  trickHng  from 
the  rim  of  his  hat  and  the  corners  of  his  poncho,  while 
drops  just  ready  to  fall  hung  from  his  nose  and  chin. 

''Wall,  I  can't  'zactly  tell,"  replied  Shorty.  ''There's 
all  kinds  o'  weather,  'n'  a  good  deal  on  it  down  'n  this 

kentry.  I  can't  think 
o'  nothin'  we  kin  do 
'bout  it,  n'  I  reck'n 
we'll  have  to  let  'er 
rain  's  long  'n'  's  of 'n 
's  she  wants  ter." 

"I  s'pose  that's  so; 
but  seems  ter  me  't  ef 
I  was  a-runnin'  this 
war  I'd  have  things 
a  leetle  difif 'runt  when 
the  rijiments  comes  in. 
I  don't  see  no  use  'n 
keepin'  us  fellers  stan'- 
in'  'round  here  all  day 
half  way  to  our  knees 
'n  mud  'n'  gittin'  wuss 
every  mmit." 

"Si,"  said  Shorty, 
"  ye'll  larn  arter  a  while.  Course,  this  'ere 's  a  damp  shame, 
but  it's  jest  the  way  they  alius  does  things  'n  the  army. 
But  ther'  ain't  no  good  gittin'  cranky,  'cause  ye  can't  help 
yerself.  Ef  ye'd  hired  out  to  work  fer  a  man  to  home  'n* 
he  didn't  treat  ye  squar',  ye  could  jest  up  'n'  quit,  but 
ther'  ain't  no  gittin'  out  o'  this.  They've  got  ye  dead  to 
rights!" 
"Who  said  anything  'bout  wantin'  ter  quit?"  exclaimed 


A    BAPTISM. 


A  DEMAND  FOR  *'PLUCK."  69 

Si,  piqued  a  little  at  Shorty's  implied  insinuation  that  he 
was  deficient  in  staying  qualities.  ''Mebbe  I'm  younger 
'n  some  o'  the  soljers,  but  I  ain't  no  baby.  I  kin  stan'  jest 
's  much  's  the  next  un." 

Shorty  hastened  to  assure  him  that  he  had  no  intention 
of  casting  slurs  upon  him.  "I  b'lieve  ye've  got  grit,"  he 
said.  ''I  don't  know  whether  I've  got  'nough  myself  ter 
last  me  through,  but  I  like  ter  see  it  'n  somebody  else." 

This  smoothed  Si's  ruffled  feelings,  and  put  him  at  once 
into  as  good  a  humor  as  was  possible  under  such  doleful 
conditions.  He  summoned  to  his  aid  all  the  ''pluck"  he 
could  command,  determined  to  show  his  comrade  that  he 
could  and  would  face  like  a  brave  soldier  w^hatever  might 
come.  The  slight  pricking  that  Shorty  gave  him  was  just 
what  he  needed.  He  had  nailed  his  colors  to  the  mast,  so 
to  speak,  and  they  were  going  to  stay  there.  Under  the 
spur  of  his  resolute  will  he  became  cheerful,  and  even  tried 
a  few  j  okes  at  the  expense  of  his  comrades .  There  was  but 
a  feeble  response,  however,  for  the  dripping  men  of  the 
200th  Indiana  were  not  in  a  mood  for  jesting.  What  little 
w^as  said  was  of  a  different  character. 

They  had  had  no  breakfast  that  was  worthy  of  the  name. 
There  was  no  danger  of  immediate  starvation,  as  they  had 
eaten  liberally  during  the  night,  and  since  then  the  con- 
tents of  their  haversacks  had  sufficed  to  appease  the  mild 
gnawings  of  hunger.  They  were  beginning  to  feel  the  need 
of  something  warming,  and  were  most  agreeably  sur- 
*  prised  when  they  were  waited  upon  by  a  delegation  from 
the  regiments  of  a  veteran  brigade  encamped  near  by,  in- 
viting them  over  to  have  some  coffee. 

''We've  been  thar,  boys,"  they  said,  "an'  we  know  jest 
how  ye  feel.  'Tain't  a  bit  funny.  We  can't  give  ye  no  fancy 
lay-out,  but  we've  made  a  lot  o'  hot  coffee  fer  ye,  an' that'll 
feel  good  to  yer  insides.  Ye 're  welcome  to  the  best  we  kiij 
give  ye." 

"Si,"  said  Shorty,  "how's  that  fer  a  itiYite?    What'd  i 


TO  TIMELY  HOSPITALITY 

tell  ye  'bout  them  soljers  ?  These  's  some  o'  the  same  fel- 
lers as  was  hootin'  'n'  j^ellin'  at  us 's  we  come  up  the  road. 
I  told  ye  the}'  didn't  mean  nothin'.  They'd  jest  turn  their- 
selves  inside  out  ter  do  anything  fer  them  that's  sufferin' 
'n'  needin'  help.  They  don't  draw  no  more  coffee  'n  they 
w^ant,  'n'  they'll  have  ter  go  'thout  it  one  meal  on  'count 
o'  what  they're  a-doin'  fer  us.  The  vet'rans  is  a  hard 
lookin'  lot,  but  ye  kin  tie  to  'em,  Si." 

The  hospitable  invitation  was  accepted  with  alacrit}^ 
and  w4th  a  profusion  of  thanks  that  came  from  the  inner- 
most recesses  of  those  drooping  hearts.  The  companies 
were  formed  and  marched  to  the  neighboring  camp,  two 
or  three  to  each  of  the  regiments,  and  were  cordially  wel- 
comed by  the  very  soldiers  who  had  jeered  them  without 
mercy  two  hours  before.  Shorty  had  not  over-stated  the 
case.  Beneath  those  ragged  blou«es  were  big  hearts  full  to 
the  brim  with  the  ''milk  of  human  kindness." 

The  guests  were  scattered  through  the  camp  and  invited 
into  the  tents  in  little  squads,  where  they  laid  off  their 
wet  ponchos. 

"We  hain't  got  no  cheers,"  said  one  of  the  hosts,  as  Si 
and  Shorty  and  two  or  three  others  entered  one  of  the 
tents.  "  Thar's  a  cracker  box  a  couple  of  ye  kin  sit  on,  an' 
the  rest  of  ye  '11  have  ter  git  down  tailor-fashion  on 
these  'ere  blankets." 

The  dispositions  were  quickly  made  and  tin  cups  full  of 
steaming  coffee  were  brought  in.  The  odor  was  sweeter 
than  incense  to  the  nostrils  of  those  Hoosiers. 

"Here's  plenty  o'  sugar,"  said  one  of  the  veterans. 
''This  'mess'  is  a  little  short  o'  spoons;  there  's  only  one 
an'  ye'll  have  to  pass  it  'long — that's  the  way  ^ve  does. 
The  cows  hain't  come  up  yet,  an'  we  hain't  got  no  milk  fer 
ye.    Want  some  hardtack?" 

"What's  it  like?"  asked  Si. 

"Oh,  that's  the  stuff  we  gits  fer  bread,"  replied  the 
veteran.     "T  s'pose  ye  hain't  struck  any  on  it  yet.     Hard- 


AND  WORDS   OF  ENCOURAGEMENT. 


71 


tack  tastes  mighty  good  sometimes,  but  it's  when  a  feller's 
reel  hungry  an'  hain't  got  nothin'  else  to  eat.  If  ye've  got 
any  soft  bread  in  yer  haversacks,  I  reck'n  that'll  taste 
better  to  ye  jest  now." 

The  boys  had  plenty  of  bread,  and  the  excellent  coffee 
was  most  refreshing. 

**Purty  tough  beginnin'  fer  ye,  boys,  "  said  one  of  their 


HOSPITALITY. 


entertainers,  "but  ye've  got  to  git  broke  in,  same's  all  on 
us  had  to.  We  don't  mind  it  now,  'cause  we've  got  used  to 
it.  Ye're  stan'in'  it  bully,  bein'  its  the  fust  time,  an'  if  ye 
stick  to  it  ye'U  make  soljers  arter  a  while." 

Si  did  not  quite  like  the  intimation  that  he  was  not  a 
soldier  already.  He  was  certain,  at  least,  that  he  would  be 
one  as  soon  as  he  had  a  gun  on  his  shoulder  and  a  car- 


72  PITCHING  TENTS. 

tridge-box  buckled  around  his  waist.  He  did  not  yet  realize 
the  difference  there  was  between  a  recruit  and  a  soldier, 
and  the  long  and  severe  process  that  was  necessary  to  com- 
plete the  transformation.  His  first  impulse  was  to  argue 
the  question,  but  a  wink  from  Shorty,  who  seemed  to  di- 
vine his  thoughts,  told  him  that  he  had  better  hold  his 
peace. 

The  members  of  the  200th  Indiana  were  profoundly  grate- 
ful to  the  veterans  for  their  kindness,  and  expressed  the 
hope  that  they  might  sometime  have  the  opportunity  to 
pay  the  debt.  They  had  a  vastly  better  opinion  of  the 
old  soldiers  than  they  formed  two  hours  before  when 
receiving  the  volleys  of  taunts  and  gibes. 

Soon  after  their  return  to  their  own  camping-ground 
the  wagons  with  the  tents  arrived,  under  convoy  of  the 
colonel  and  quartermaster.  The  camp  was  hastih^  laid 
out  and  all  hands  fell  to  with  a  will.  Not  a  quarter  of 
the  men  had  ever  seen  a  tent  before  that  day,  and  verj^  few 
knew  am^thing  about  "pitching"  one.  But  they  all 
thought  that  was  easy  enough.  They  hadn't  anything 
to  drive  stakes  with,  but  they  borrowed  axes  and  hatchets 
from  their  neighbors  and  were  soon  pounding  awa}-  with 
great  energv.  The\^  were  not  long  in  finding  out  that  a 
good  many  things  are  easy — after  you  have  learned  how 
to  do  them.  Even  the  pitching  of  a  tent  required  at 
least  a  limited  amount  of  knowledge  and  experience.  They 
were  directed  to  place  them  in  straight  rows,  by  companies, 
but  the^^  got  them  up  askew  and  "every  which  way." 
The  "flaps"  at  the  front  perversely  refused  to  come  together, 
leaving  great  yawning  gaps,  making  it  impossible  to  "shut 
the  door."  The  boys  gladly  accepted  a  few  suggestions 
from  some  of  the  veterans  who  came  over  and  stood  around, 
first  exhausting  their  stock  of  jokes  on  the  new  men,  and 
then  taking  hold  in  the  kindest  possible  way  and  showing 
them  how  to  do  it. 

With  the  tents  up  the  camp  assumed  a  rather  more  cheer- 


A  POOR  SHOW  FOR  COMFORT.  73 

fill  aspect.  It  would  be  more  nearly  correct  to  say  that 
it  was  a  little  less  miserable,  for  the  two  conditions 
were  only  comparative  degrees  of  woe.  The  prospect  for 
the  night  was  dismal  enough. 

''Now,  men,"  said  the  captain,  encouragingly,  ''get 
divided  oif,  one  'mess  '  for  each  tent,  and  make  yourselves 
as  comfortable  as  you  can."  And  then  the  captain  went 
to  the  surgeon  and  told  him  he  didn't  feel  very  well,  got  an 
excuse  to  go  into  town,  and  stayed  all  night  at  a  hotel. 

"  'Pears  ter  me.  Shorty,  we're  in  'bout  'sbad  a '  mess  *  now 
's  we  kin  git!"  said  Si,  as  he  looked  despairingly  down  at 
his  legs,  which  were  elaborately  frescoed  with  that  red  clay 
mud  so  peculiar  to  the  South  and  as  adhesive  as  patent 
glue. 

The  order  of  the  captain  to  "make  themselves  comfort- 
able" had  but  little  meaning  to  the  men  of  Company  Q. 
It  seemed  a  very  preposterous  thing  to  talk  of  manufac- 
turing "comfort,"  when  so  destitute  of  the  necessary 
elements.  As  yet  the  word  conveyed  to  them  no  other  idea 
than  a  well  spread  table,  a  rocking-chair  before  a  blazing 
hearth,  and  a  good  bed  to  sleep  in. 

There  was  absolutely  nothing  in  sight,  not  under  guard, 
that  could  give  them  relief  in  their  extremity.  Boards, 
rails,  limbs  of  trees— anything  on  which  to  spread  their 
blankets  would  have  been  hailed  as  a  favorable  dispensa- 
tion of  providence,  but  the  last  vestige  of  available 
material  had  long  since  disappeared  among  the  thousands 
of  soldiers  in  the  densely  populated  camps.  A  crow  might 
have  scanned  that  field  in  vain  for  material  with  which  to 
build  a  nest. 

There  were  barns  and  outbuildings  and  fences  in  the  vicin- 
ity, but  bristling  bayonets  warned  oif  all  who  sought  to 
lay  violent  hands  upon  them.  They  were  as  tempting  to 
those  gloomy-hearted  Hoosiers  as  was  the  forbidden  fruit 
to  the  ancestral  pair  in  the  Garden  of  Eden— and  the}'  were 
a  great  deal  more  securely  protected.     The  destructive 


74  THE  RAIL-GUARDING  POLICY. 

propensity,  which  seemed  to  be  an  instinct  in  the  bifeast 
of  the  soldier,  showed  itself  at  the  very  outset  in  the  200th 
Indiana,  and  foreshadowed  great  activity  in  this  direction 
whenever  the  restraint  should  be  removed.  As  the  murky 
twilight  began  to  deepen  they  would  have  torn  down  half 
the  city,  if  they  had  been  turned  loose,  and  used  the  debris 
to  keep  themselves  out  of  the  mud.  But  the  time  for  this 
had  not  yet  come. 

The  truth  is  that  the  soldiers  fully  adopted  the  confisca- 
tion theory  long  before  the  statesmen  and  the  generals 
did,  though  not  permitted  by  the  latter  to  carry  out  their 
eminenth^  practical  ideas  of  how  to  conduct  a  campaign. 
But  the  bo3^s  planted  their  flags  there,  and  after  a  while 
the  lawgivers  and  the  men  with  stars  twinkling  on  thdr 
shoulders  "dressed  up"  to  the  line  in  fine  style.  After  try- 
ino:  it  for  about  two  vears  the  beautiful  theory  of  carrv- 
ing  on  a  war  without  hurting  anybody — in  pocket — was 
abandoned. 

The  field  occupied  by  the  200th  was  surrounded  by  a 
rail  fence.  More  properly  speaking,  it  had  been  so  sur- 
rovmded  before  the  war.  Whatever  value  for  other  pur- 
poses there  might  be  in  the  few  scattering  rails  that 
stretched  around  the  camp,  as  a  fence  they  were  no  longer 
of  any  account.  Nor  did  it  seem  at  all  likely  that  any 
fence  would  be  needed  there  while  the  war  lasted.  When 
the  flame  of  the  guns  at  Sumter  lighted  up  the  heavens 
with  its  lurid  glare,  about  the  first  thing  the  government 
did  was  to  place  a  guard  over  that  sacred  fence,  and  it  had 
been  kept  up  CA^er  since.  Judgingfrom  the  faithfulness  with 
which  the  sentinels  paced  their  beats  around  that  field, 
successivel}'  relieving  one  another  through  all  the  weeks 
and  months,  the  protection  of  those  rails — that  no  soldier 
might  lay  them  down  to  sleep  on,  or  make  fires  of  them  to 
cook  his  coffee  and  bean-soup — seemed  to  be  the  chief  pur- 
pose for  which  the  army  was  sent  down  there.  The  con- 
dition of  the  fence  at  this  time  2:ave  abundant  evidence  of 


A  GLOOMY  OUTLOOK.  "  75 

the  fact  that  the  vigilance  of  the  guards  had  not  been 
wholly  successful  in  preventing  depredations.  Numerous 
forays  on  dark  nights,  the  moment  of  attack  being  when 
a  guard  v^as  at  a  remote  point  on  his  beat,  had  resulted  in 
a  slow  but  sure  process  of  dissolution.  But  still  the  men 
in  blue  trudged  to  and  fro,  by  day  and  by  night,  over  the 
well-worn  path,  with  the  same  orders  that  were  dinned  into 
the  astonished  ears  of  the  first  men  who  were  stationed  to 
guard  it:  ''If  any  man  attempts  to  take  a  rail  from 
that  fence,  shoot  him  on  the  spot !"  By  the  time  the  200th 
Indiana  moved  awa}^,  there  were  no  rails  left  to  speak  of; 
but  in  the  absence  of  any  testimony  on  the  subject  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  from  sheer  force  of  habit  the  guard  was  kept 
up  along  the  line  where  that  fence  was  until  Lee  surren- 
dered at  Appomattox. 

"Purty  hard  place  ter  sleep,  ain't  it.  Shorty?"  said  Si, 
as  he  stood  within  the  tent,  surve\ang  the  muddy  ground 
and  calculating  the  chances  on  getting  a  night's  rest. 

"Purty  soft,  ye  mean,  don't  ye ?"  replied  Shorty. 

Si  laughed,  more  at  the  thought  of  a  jest  from  such  an 
unexpected  source  than  from  the  brilliancv  of  the  joke 
itself 

''Ther'  ain't  no  diff'rence,"  he  said,  ''we're  both  drivin' 
't  the  same  idee.  What  'd  mother  'n'  sister  Marier  say  'f 
they  c'd  see  whar  we've  got  ter  lay  down,  'nless  we  stan' 
up  to 't  all  night,  'n'  I  d'no  but  that's  the  best  way  out  o* 
the  scrape.  Even  Dad's  hogs  's  better  off  ner  we  be,  fer 
they  kin  git  out  o'  the  mud  'f  they  wants  ter,  'n'  that's 
mor'n  we  c'n  do!" 

In  making  up  the  "messes"  these  two  had  naturally 
entered  the  same  tent,  and  drawn  by  a  mutual  attraction 
they  had  "paired." 

With  rare  exceptions  every  soldier  had  his  ' '  pard . ' '  New 
troops  on  taking  the  field  and  adjusting  themselves  to  the 
peculiar  situations  of  army  life,  mated  as  naturally  as  birds 
m  springtime.     The  longer  +hey  remained  in  the  service  the 


76  THE  SOLDIER   AND  HIS  '*PARD." 

more  did  they  appreciate  the  convenience  of  this. arrange- 
ment. During  the  arduous  campaigns  two  constituted  a 
family,  eating  and  sleeping  together.  The^-  "pooled" 
their  rations  and  made  an  equitable  division  of  labor.  On 
the  march,  if  a  patch  of  sweet  potatoes,  a  field  of  "roasting 
ears,"  oi  an  orchard  in  fruit  was  reached,  one  would  carry 
the  gun  of  his  comrade  while  the  latter  would  lay  in  a  sup- 
ply of  forage  for  their  evening  meal,  and  then  hasten  for- 
ward to  his  place  in  the  column. 

On  going  into  camp  one  would  look  for  straw  while  the 
other  went  on  a  hunt  for  a  chicken  or  a  piece  of  fresh  pork. 
Then  w^hile  one  filled  the  canteens  at  the  spring  or  stream, 
the  other  gathered  wood  and  made  a  fire.  All  became 
prime  cooks,  and  this  part  of  the  w^ork  was  shared.  If  it 
was  to  be  a  "regulation"  meal,  one  superintended  the 
coffee,  pounding  up  the  roasted  grains  in  a  tin  cup  or  can 
with  the  butt  of  his  bayonet  w^hile  the  water  was  coming 
to  a  boil,  and  the  other  fried  or  toasted  the  bacon.  If 
either  w^as  detailed  for  guard  or  fatigue  duty,  he  knew  that 
the  wants  of  his  inner  man  would  be  provided  for,  and  his 
portion  of  any  choice  morsel  would  be  scrupulously  saved 
for  him.  If  one  was  ill  or  worse  "played  out"  than  the 
other  after  a  toilsome  march,  his  companion  cared  for  him 
with  all  the  tenderness  of  a  brother.  If  one  was  imposed 
upon  by  quarrelsome  comrades  he  could  always  safely  de- 
pend upon  his  "pard  "  to  stand  by  him  to  the  last  extrem- 
ity. At  night  they  lay  together  upon  one  blanket  with 
the  other  as  a  cover.  It  is  not  probable  that  Solomon 
ever  snuggled  up  to  his  ' '  pard ' '  under  a  "  pup  "  tent ;  but  he 
seems  to  have  had  the  correal  idea  when  he  wrote  (Bcclesi- 
astes  IV :  11) :  "Again,  if  two  lie  together,  then  they  have 
heat:  but  how  can  one  be  w^arm  alone?"  There  were 
many  times  when  they  hugged  each  other  like  tw^o  pieces 
of  sticking-plaster,  in  the  vain  effort  to  generate  heat 
enough  for  even  a  measurable  degree  of  comfort.  When 
tw  o  congenial  spirits  were  thus  brought  together  nothing 


TARIOUS  CAUSES  OF  FRICTION.  77 

but  death  or  a  separation  at  the  call  of  dut}'  could  sever 
the  ties  that  bound  them. 

.  It  will  not  be  thought  strange  that  many,  after  "living 
together"  for  a  few  days  or  weeks,  found  themselves  mis- 
mated.  In  fact  it  was  about  as  much  of  a  lottery  as  get- 
ting married  is  popularly  believed  to  be;  and  divorces 
were  as  frequent  as  in  the  hymeneal  experience  of  mankind. 

A  fruitful  source  of  domestic  eruptions  was  the  develop- 
ment and  gradual  growth  of  a  disposition  on  the  part  of 
one  member  of  the  firm  to  ''play  off"  on  his  more  energetic 
comrade,  and  shirk  his  part  of  the  labor  so  indispen- 
sable to  their  welfare.  The  soldier  w^as  constitutionally 
lazy,  so  far  as  the  performance  of  irksome  toil  was  con- 
cerned. This  was  considered  proper  and  right  when  ap- 
plied to  general  fatigue  dut}^,  but  when  a  man  was  too 
laz3'  to  help  get  his  own  dinner  or  go  foraging  for  sweet 
potatoes,  he  placed  himself  outside  the  pale  of  Christian 
forbearance.  Then  his  "pard"  went  back  on  him,  and 
sometimes  a  riot  occurred  that  aroused  the  w^hole  camp. 
The  upshot  of  it  all  was  that  the  "  drone  "  was  left  to  shift 
for  himself,  while  the  industrious  bee,  finding  it  easier  to 
provide  for  one  than  for  two,  buzzed  around  until  he  could 
pick  up  a  more  congenial  mate. 

Incompatibility  of  temper  broke  up  many  of  these  hastily 
formed  partnerships.  Sometimes  the  appetites  were  not 
evenl}^  balanced,  and  in  times  of  scarcity  one  ate  more 
than  his  share  of  the  common  stock  of  rations.  Then 
there  was  trouble,  and  plenty  of  it.  These  and  other 
causes  often  disturbed  for  a  time  the  harmony  of  intimate 
association,  and  it  generally  took  about  a  year  to  get  the 
"  pards  "  properly  adjusted. 

The  ravages  of  disease  and  the  deadly  missiles  of  battle 
made  sad  havoc  with  these  ties  of  brotherhood.  Few  be- 
reavements are  more  keenly  felt  than  were  those  among  the 
comrades  of  months  and  years. 

Here  and  there,  in  every  company  flock,  was  a  black  sheep 


78  A  CASE  IN  POINT. 

who  seemed  to  be  a  misfit  everywhere.  Nobody  paired 
with  him,  and — perhaps  as  much  from  his  own  choice  as 
from  the  fact  that  he  seemed  to  have  no  ''affinity" — he 
lived  Hke  a  crusty  old  bachelor  in  civil  life.  He  made 
his  own  fire,  boiled  his  coffee  in  a  kettle  holding  just  enough 
for  one,  and  ate  his  meal  alone.  Then  he  rolled  himself 
up  in  his  blanket  like  a  mummy  and  lay  down,  having,  at 
least,  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  no  bed-fellow  would 
kick  the  cover  off  in  the  night  and  expose  him  to  the 
copious  and  chilling  dews. 

In  the  company  to  which  the  w^riter  belonged  there  was 
a  little  fellow  of  Teutonic  birth,  who  had  a  snore  that  was 
like  the  sound  of  a  fish-horn.  When  he  was  asleep  it  was 
never  silent.  He  would  begin  to  tune  up  his  bazoo  as  soon 
as  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  by  the  time  he  was  fairly  asleep 
it  would  be  at  full  blast.  Enough  imprecations  to  sink  a 
ship  were  nightly  heaped  upon  that  unfortunate  youth. 
Sometimes  the  boys  made  it  so  warm  for  him  that  he 
would  get  up  in  high  dudgeon,  seize  his  blanket,  and  go  off 
back  of  the  camp  and  crawl  into  a  wagon.  Then  when 
he  got  to  snoring  again  it  would  set  all  the  mules  to  bray- 
ing. Once  when  the  company  was  sent,  at  night,  to  oc- 
cupy a  position  near  the  enemy,  and  silence  was  a  necessity, 
this  man  was  actually  left  behind  as  a  prudential  measure. 
It  was  feared  he  would  go  to  sleep  and  his  snoring  would 
convey  intelligence  to  the  enemy.  But  he  snored  his  way 
through  the  war  to  the  very  end.  In  all  the  hard  fighting 
only  one  bullet  ever  touched  him— and  that  did  not  in  the 
slightest  degree  impair  his  snoring  machinery.  Of  course 
he  never  had  a  ''pard."  A  chap  tried  it  the  first  night  in 
camp,  but  half  an  hour  after  they  lay  down  he  got 
up  in  a  rage  and  left  the  Dutchman's  ''bed  and  board" 
forever. 

"Si,"  said  Shorty,  as  if  an  idea  had  struck  him  with 
unusual  force,  "come  'long  'th  me!" 

"  What  fer?"  asked  Si. 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE  TEMPTER.  79 

"Never  you  mind,"  v^as  the  reply;  ''jest  foUer  me  'n' 
don't  say  nothin'  ter  nobody !" 

Si  did  as  he  was  bidden,  for  he  v^as  already  learning  to 
pin  his  faith  to  his  companion.  When  they  had  passed 
outside  the  rows  of  tents,  Shorty  unfolded  his  scheme. 

''Ther'  ain't  no  use  lyin'  'n  the  mud,"  he  said, ''  'n'  them 
rails  out  thar  rottin'." 

^'Why,  Shorty,"  exclaimed  Si,  astonished  at  so  flagrant 
a  violation  of  orders,  ''ye  know  what  they  told  us;  *n' 
them  fellers 's  out  thar  'th  their  bay 'nets  !  I  don't  want 
ter  have  none  o'  them  things  punched  into  me  jest  yet;  I 
v^ant  ter  see  suthin'  more  o'  this  war !" 

"Bay 'nets  be  bio  wed!"  said  Shorty.  *'I  ain't  goin'  ter 
git  you  inter  no  scrape,  so  don't  ye  be  'feard.  You  stand 
whar  I  tell  ye  'n'  I'll  fotch  ye  some  o'  them  rails,  sure's  yer 
born." 

Si  promised  to  obey,  with  a  dubious  hope  that  it  would 
all  come  out  right.  He  took  his  position  at  a  safe  distance 
from  the  fence,  though  not  without  some  smitings  of  con- 
science. He  felt  very  much  as  he  did  once  when,  beguiled 
at  night  into  a  neighbor's  melon-patch,  he  trembled  with 
fear  lest  the  old  man  should  turn  loose  the  dogs. 

The  darkness  favored  Shorty's  foray.  Creeping  care- 
fully  up  he  saw  the  sentinel  face  about  at  the  end  of  his 
beat  and  start  in  the  opposite  direction.  Two  or  three 
fninutes  later  Shorty  darted  up  to  the  fence,  seized  a  couple 
of  rails,  bore  them  back  and  delivered  them  to  Si. 

"Now  waitt'll  I  get  'nother  load,"  he  said. 

"Won't  these  do?"  asked  Si.  "I  don't  like  ter  have  ye 
try  it  agin.    I'm  'feard  they'll  cotch  ye !" 

"We  can't  sleep  on  one  rail  apiece.  I'll  be  back  'n  a 
minit!" 

In  an  instant  he  had  disappeared.  Si  stood  breathlessly 
awaiting  his  return.  Shorty  slipped  a  figure  in  his  calcu- 
lation this  time,  and  as  he  was  lifting  the  rails  to  his 
shoulder  he  was  confronted  by  the  guard. 


so 


FALLING  BACK  IN  DISORDER. 


Now  the  truth  is  the  guard  did  not  care  how  many  rail* 
were  taken.  He  did  not  want  to  see  what  might  be  going 
on,  for  it  was  not  unhkely  that  the  next  night,  if  it  was 
dark  and  he  was  not  on  duty,  he  would  be  doing  the  same 
thing  himself.  But  when  he  came  suddenly  upon  Shorty 
in  the  very  act  he  could  not  let  him  pass  unnoticed.  Shorty, 
with  a  grip  on  the  rails,  bounded  oif  into  the  darkness. 

''Halt,  there!  Halt, 
or  I'll  blow  ye  into  the 
middle  o'  next  week!" 
Si  heard  the  awful 
words,  followed  by  the 
ominous  click  of  the 
gun  lock.  He  sank  up- 
on the  ground  all  in 
a  heap,  quaking  with 
fear. 

"0-o-oh,  Sh-sh-shor- 
ty !  "  he  exclaimed  in  a 
hoarse  whisper,  as  his 
comrade  came  dashing 

''Git  up.  Si,  quick: 
Grab  yer  rails  'n'  run. 
Don't  lie  thar  'n'  let 
'im  stab  ye  er  plug  k 
hole  through  yer  liver ! ' ' 
In  frantic  despera- 
tion Si  seized  the  rails.  Shorty  led  the  way  some  dis- 
tance off  at  a  right  angle  from  the  line  leading  to  the 
camp. 

"Thar,  now,  git  down 's  low  's  ye  kin!"  said  Shorty. 

''It'll  be  only  a  chance  'f  the  pesky  guard  finds  us  here,  'n*" 

^f  he  does,  all  we  kin  do  is  ter  take  the  consekences.     I 

don't  b'lieve  he'll  shute  anybod3^" 

The  sentinel  tramped  around  a  few  minutes  in  the  dark- 


STEALING   A   BED. 


A  POOR  SUBSTITUTE  FOR  FEATHERS.  81 

uess  and  then,  glad  that  the  raiders  had  escaped,  turned  to 
his  beat. 

''Thar  it's  all  right,"  said  Shorty,  "  ye  mustn't  git  scar't 
at  a  little  thing  like  that.    Now  let's  go  in." 

Si  was  too  frightened  yet  to  talk.  He  once  more  shoul- 
dered his  rails  and  followed  his  comrade  to  the  camp.  Just 
outside  the  outermost  row  of  tents  they  threw  them  down 
and  Si  stayed  with  them  while  Shorty  hunted  up  an  axe. 
He  chopped  them  in  two  and  they  carried  the  pieces  in 
triumph  to  their  tent. 

Si  and  Shorty  laid  down  the  rails,  spread  their  blankets 
upon  them,  placed  their  knapsacks  for  pillow^s,  and  stretched 
themselves  out.  It  was  a  hard  bed.  Si's  bones  were  well 
cushioned  with  flesh,  but  the  sharp  corners  of  the  rails 
made  great  furrows  in  his  body. 

''Shorty,"  said  Si,  after  they  had  lain  quiet  for  a  few 
minutes,  "what  '11  the  ossifers  do  to  us  'f  they  finds  these 
'ere  rails  'n  our  tent  ?" 

"Don't  let  that  worry  ye,"  replied  Shorty,  "we'll  jest 
keep  'em  kivered  wi'  the  blankets,  t'll  we  gits  a  chance  ter 
burn  'em  up!" 

Just  before  dark  several  wagon  loads  of  green  oak  logs 
had  been  dumped  at  various  points  through  the  camp. 
After  long  effort,  that  exhausted  the  patience  of  several 
successive  ' '  reliefs, ' '  a  few  feeble  fires  were  started.  Around 
these,  wet  and  shivering  and  blinded  by  the  smoke,  the 
disconsolate  men  of  the  200th  Indiana  crowded  and 
elbowed  one  another.    Patriotism  was  at  zero. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

fii  J%  Armed  and  Equipped  for  Active  Hostilities — The  Bayonet  as 

Factor  in  War. 

UT  1^  7ALL,  Si,  ho\Y  d'ye  feel?"  said  Shorty  to  hie 
V  V  comrade,  as  they  got  up  at  an  early  hour  next 
morning. 

**  Fust  rate,"  was  the  cheery  answer.  ''But  I '11  tell  ye  what 
'tis,  pard,  I  don't  hanker  much  arter  that  kind  o'  bed-slats 
'n'  no  matrus  ter  put  on  'em.  I  never  did  like  ter  git  up 
*n  the  mornin'  to  hum,  but  you  kin  depend  on  me  fer  a 
early  riser  's  long  's  I  sleep  on  sich  a  bed  's  that."  And  Si 
rubbed  his  legs  and  moved  about  briskly  to  limber  up  his 
stiffened  joints. 

When  company  Q  fell  in  for  roll-call,  the  men  looked  as 
if  they  had  just  been  to  a  funeral  in  the  capacity  of  chief 
mourners.  Most  of  them  had  scarcely  slept  at  all,  but  had 
spent  the  long  hours  of  the  night  that  they  thought  would 
never  end,  in  hovering  around  the  smoking  fires.  The  sun 
rose  bright,  and  the  genial  warmth  of  his  rays  gradually 
dispelled  the  gloom  that  had  settled  over  the  camp. 

It  was  a  busy  day.  Wagons  arrived  loaded  with  rations, 
which  were  promptly  issued  to  the  various  companies. 
There  was  an  abundance  of  the  articles  that  went  to  make 
up  the  nourishing  regulation  menu,  except  that  soft  bread 
was  furnished  in  lieu  of  ''hardtack."  There  seemed  to  be 
a  humane  desire  to  let  the  boys  down  to  bed-rock  by  easy 
stages. 

Si  felt  a  lively  personal  interest  in  the  commissary  de- 

82 


THE  CAMP-KETTLE.  83 

partment,  to  which  he  must  look  for  his  daily  bread.  He 
volunteered  to  help  unload  the  wagons,  and  as  he  saw  the 
seemingly  bountiful  supplies  of  bread,  bacon,  sugar,  coffee, 
beans,  etc.,  a  quiet  joy  filled  his  heart. 

''Shorty,"  he  said,  ''this  don't  look  much  like  starvin* 
the  soljers.  I'll  do  jest  anything  Uncle  Sam  wants  me  ter 
's  long  's  he  gives  me  'nough  ter  eat." 

Then  other  wagons  came  with  a  suppl}^  of  camp-equip- 
age— axes,  shovels,  camp-kettles  and  other  articles  neces- 
sary to  a  company  outfit.  The  word  "necessary  "  is  here 
used  because  all  these  things  were  so  considered  at  that 
time.  The  camp-kettle,  as  indicated  by  its  name,  ^vas  a 
good  and  useful  article  of  furniture  when  the  troops  were 
lying  in  camp,  but  did  not  figure  largely  in  the  long,  active 
campaigns  of  the  later  years  of  the  war.  It  was  chiefly 
used  for  making  coffee  and  bean  soup,  and  for  laundry 
purposes — for  the  soldiers  had  to  boil  their  clothes  the 
same  as  their  mothers  and  sisters  did  the  family  wash, 
though  for  a  different  reason,  which  will  appear  in  due 
time. 

The  camp-kettle  was  an  odd  looking  affair,  of  heavy 
sheet-iron,  very  tall,  and  of  the  same  diameter  from  top  to 
bottom.  All  were  of  the  same  height,  but  there  were  three 
or  four  sizes  of  them,  so  that  .they  could  be  conveniently 
"nested  "  for  transportation.  They  rapidly  fell  victims  to 
the  casualties  of  active  service .  Like  everything  else  the  sol 
diers  used  or  wore,  they  were  "made  by  contract."  Some 
of  them  soon  became  leaky  from  causes  known  only  to  the 
men  who  made  them.  The  idea  seemed  to  be  paramount 
in  the  minds  of  those  self-sacrificing  patriots  v^ho  helped  to 
save  the  country  by  supplying  the  army  with  camp-kettles 
and  other  things,  that  if  they  made  them  so  that  they 
would  not  last  long,  there  would  be  a  speedy  demand  for 
more,  and  this  would  make  business  brisk.  Other  camp- 
kettles  had  their  usefulness  impaired  by  various  accidents  to 
which  they  were  liable .  Wagons  ran  over  them,  and  the  boys, 


84  ARMS  AND   AMMUNITION. 

in  their  mirthful  moods,  kicked  them  about  the  camp.  On 
the  whole,  the  camp-kettles  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  During 
the  last  year  of  the  war  thousands  of  the  soldiers  did  not 
so  much  as  see  one  for  months  together.  A  little  ingenuity 
and  activity  in  foraging  supplied  substitutes  that  an- 
swered every  purpose. 

Then  came  the  event  of  the  day.  Half  a  dozen  wagons 
<irew  up  to  the  camp  and  the  detail  of  men  began  to  unload 
long  heavy  boxes  that  looked  as  if  they  w^ere  made  to 
enclose  coffins — an  appearance  not  wholly  inappropriate. 
They  contained  bright,  new  Springfield  muskets  for  the 
200th  Indiana.  This  arrival  'was  greeted  with  an  outburst 
of  cheers,  for  the  men  were  painfully  conscious  that  as  yet 
they  were  soldiers  only  in  name.  Without  arms  they  did 
not  amount  to  ''  a  row  of  pins." 

More  big  boxes  were  tumbled  out  of  the  wagons.  These 
contained  the  cartridge-boxes,  waist  and  shoulder  belts,, 
cap-boxes,  and  other  ''traps"  that  went  to  make  up  the 
long  list  of  accouterments.  One  of  the  wagons  was  loaded 
with  small  boxes  of  about  the  capacity  of  a  half-bushel 
measure.  Si  sprang  forward  to  toss  them  out,  but  when 
he  took  hold  of  one  he  found  it  was  as  much  as  he  could 
do  to  lift  it.  It  fairly  made  his  bones  creak  as  he  lowered 
it  to  the  ground.  It  was  full  of  ammunition — cartridges 
ready  for  use. 

Things  now  began  to  look  like  business,  and  the  men 
moved  about  with  the  utmost  eagerness.  Rumors  flew 
through  the  camp  that  the  rebel  army  was  close  at  hand 
and  a  conflict  was  hourly  expected.  The  members  of  the 
200th  Indiana  felt  that  if  the  impending  battle  could  only 
be  staved  ofl"  until  they  should  get  their  guns  and  fill  up  their 
'  'pill-boxes"  it  would  be  all  right.  There  could  no  longer 
be  any  doubt  as  to  the  result,  and  the  band  might  at  once 
begin  to  play. 

When  Company  Q's  turn  came  it  was  marched  up  to 
headquarters,  and  in  a  few  minutes  each  man  was   the 


WHY  THE   OFFICERS   OF   '61   WEPT.  85 

happy  possessor  of  a  brightly  burnished  musket  and  bay- 
onet, and  all  the  accessories  needful  to  complete  his  war- 
like array,  including  forty  rounds  of  ammunition.  To  the 
regiment  forty  thousand  cartridges  were  issued— enough  to 
destroy  the  entire  opposing  army,  provided  they  all  went 
to  the  right  spot.  Little  wonder  that  these  valiant  new 
soldiers  believed  that  the  end  was  now  near  at  hand. 

The  colonel  superintended  the  distribution  of  the  arms, 
and  noted  with  pride  the  eagerness  with  which  his  men 
grasped  their  muskets  and  accouterments.  He  had  no  doubt 
that  they  would  manifest  equal  promptitude  in  using  them 
when  occasion  required,  and  there  passed  before  him  visions 
of  the  glory  that  would  cause  the  name  of  the  200th 
Indiana  to  shine  with  conspicuous  luster. 

The  captain  of  Company  Q  had  to  sign  a  receipt  for  thr 
arms  and  equipments  issued  to  his  men,  as  he  did  for  the 
tents  and  everything  appertaining  to  the  company's  out* 
fit.    The  officers  who  went  out  in  '62  were  wiser  in  their 
generation  than  those  who  took  the  field  the  year  be- 
fore.   They  had  the  benefit  of  the  latter's  experience.    It 
was  on  this  wise:   It  was  decreed  in  the  ''Revised  Army 
Regulations  "—a  big  blue-covered  book,  impressively  let- 
tered, that  was  both  law  and  gospel  to  all  who  entered 
the  army  in  any  capacity— that  the  commanding  officer  of 
a  company  should,  under  all  circumstances,  be  held  strictl}? 
responsible  for  every  penny's  worth  of  government  prop- 
erty  in  the  possession  of  his  men.    Monthly  returns  of 
clothing  and   ''camp  and  garrison  equipage,"  as  it  was 
called  in  a  lump,  and  quarterly  returns  of  ordnance  and 
ordnance  stores  had  to  be  made  to  the  Grand  Moguls  at 
Washington.    In  these  returns  everything  in  the  way  of 
baggage,  down  to  a  hatchet  or  a  tent-pin,  had  to  be  ac- 
counted for,  as  well  as  every  article  in  the  line  of  ordnance, 
from  a  musket  to  a  belt-plate.    Even  the  tompions— tiny 
wooden  plugs  to  stick  into  the  muzzles  of  the  guns  and 
keep  out  the  dust  and  rain,  worth  about  two-for-a-cent— 


86  STRAINING  AT  GNATS. 

had  to  be  momentously  entered  in  the  long  columns  of 
items  and  figures.  If  one  of  the  little  things  disappeared 
it  had  to  be  accounted  for,  with  an  imposing  array  of  cer- 
tificates and  affidavits,  as  though  the  salvation  of  the 
country  hung  by  a  thread  on  the  fate  of  that  lost  tompion. 
If  he  could  not  account  for  it  in  a  way  that  was  perfectly 
satisfactory  to  the  high  and  mighty  authorities  at  the 
National  capital,  he  had  to  pay  for  it  in  cash.  In  collect- 
ing debts  of  this  kind  Uncle  Sam  ''had  the  bulge"  on  the 
officer,  by  an  overwhelming  majority.  He  just  sent  the 
account  to  the  paymaster,  and  that  pompous  officer 
promptly  lopped  off  the  amount  from  his  pay. 

To  the  unsophisticated  volunteer  it  did  seem  as  though, 
in  thus  holding  him  pecuniarily  accountable  for  these  paltry 
things,  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  war,  our  great  and 
glorious  government  was  straining  at  very  small  gnats, 
while  it  was  at  the  same  time  gulping  down  so  many 
double-humped  camels  without  a  qualm.  But  it  was 
''Regulations,"  and  that  settled  it.  The  pains  and  pen- 
alties laid  down  in  that  terrible  book  were  as  inflexible  as 
the  law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  "which  altereth  not." 

The  officers  of  '61  devoted  themselves  with  commendable 
assiduity  to  "Hardee's  Tactics,"  but  they  sadly  neglected 
the  "Regulations."  At  least  they  did  not  give  such  heed 
to  its  teachings  as  the  welfare  of  their  pockets  required. 
The  making  of  returns  at  stated  periods  was  all  well 
enough,  they  thought,  for  "Regulars,"  permanently  sta- 
tioned in  forts  and  barracks,  but  they  did  not  for  a 
moment  imagine  that  such  punctilious  duties  would  be 
exacted  of  those  who  had  left  the  plow,  the  bar,  the 
counter,  the  office,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  putting  down  the 
rebellion.  Whatever  of  government  property  disappeared 
was  destroyed  or  lost  in  the  service,  any  way,  and  the 
idea  of  their  being  compelled  to  pay  for  it  was  too  prepos- 
terous to  be  entertained  for  a  moment.  So  they  pursued 
the  even  tenor  of  their  way.  trudging  over  the  stony  pikes 


UNCLE  SAM  AS  '"SHYLOCK."  87 

and  leading  their  men  into  battle,  and  didn't  make  any 
returns  at  all. 

But  there  came  a  day  of  rude  awakening  from  their 
dreams  of  fancied  security.  In  many  cases  the  pay  of.  the 
officers  of  an  entire  regiment  was  stopped,  with  the  strict- 
est orders  that  the  spigot  in  Uncle  Sam's  ''bar'l"  should 
not  be  withdrawn  and  the  flow  of  money  resumed  until 
full  returns  from  the  beginning  were  made,  as  it  was 
**  nominated  in  the  bond."  Shylockwas  not  more  exacting 
in  the  demand  for  his  "pound  of  flesh."  The  effect  of  an 
order  of  this  kind  from  Washington  was  like  that  of  an  un- 
expected shell  from  a  masked  batter3^  It  threw  the  officers 
who  had  commanded  companies,  into  a  convulsive  state 
which  continued  for  days  and  weeks,  while  they  were  try- 
ing to  get  themselves  out  of  the  snarl.  By  this  time  most 
of  the  companies  had  been  reduced  to  half  their  original 
strength.  Forty  or  fifty  guns  and  their  accouterments, 
and  camp  and  garrison  equipage  in  proportion,  were  gone, 
and  not  a  scrap  of  writing  to  show  for  them.  Many 
things  had  been  worn  out,  and  most  of  the  guns  had  irreg- 
ularly found  their  way  into  the  hands  of  ordnance  officers 
from  the  hospitals  where  the  men  were  left ;  but  these  facts 
did  not  help  them  out  of  their  dilemma,  in  the  absence  of 
receipts  and  other  documentary  evidence.  It  would  have 
absorbed  many  an  officer's  pay  for  a  year  to  square  his 
accounts. 

This  was  where  the  swearing  came  in.  The  making  of 
searching  and  comprehensive  affidavits  is  the  kind  of  swear- 
ing intended  to  be  understood,  although  the  widest  pos- 
sible latitude  may  be  given  to  the  word  in  this  connection 
without  doing  violence  to  the  truth.  In  a  case  of  this  kind 
the  orderly-sergeant  was  the  captain's  sheet  anchor.  His 
memory  was  taxed  to  the  utmost,  and,  when  its  resources 
were  exhausted,  his  imagination  was  drawn  upon  for  ac- 
cidents and  casualties  that  would  account  for  the  missing 


88 


HAPPINESS  FOR  SI  KLEGG. 


property.     Some  of  the  affidavits   almost  blistered  the 
paper  upon  which  they  were  written. 

When  one  officer  liad  been  continuously  in  command  of 
a  company  and  the  same  orderly  had  stuck  by  him,  time, 
patience  and  stationery  only  were  necessary.  But  in  the 
great  majority  of  cases,  through  the  casualties  of  disease 
and  battle,  two  or  three  officers  had  successively  com- 
manded, with  perhaps  as  many  different  first  sergeants  at 

the  wheel,  and  there  was  long 
floundering  in  the  mire.  In  many 
instances  it  took  months  to  get 
the  accounts  sufficiently  straight- 
ened so  that  the  paymaster  pulled 
out  the  plug  and  again  started 
the  stream  of  greenbacks  to  irri- 
gate the  well -parched  pocket- 
books  of  the  exasperated  officers. 
Thousands  will  recognize  this  as 
a  truthful  picture  of  their  experi- 
ence in  learning  Uncle  Sam's  rule 
th^t  "business  is  business." 

When  Si  got  back  to  his  tent  he 
could  not  rest  until  he  had  tried 
on  the  latest  addition  to  his 
equipment.  With  Shorty's  assist- 
ance he  managed  to  get  the  vari- 
lous  parts  together  and  buckled 
on  his  cartridge-box.  Then  he 
shouldered  his  musket  and 
marched  up  and  down  the  company  street  with  a  feeling 
of  pride  and  satisfaction  that  he  had  never  felt  before.  He 
wished  his  mother  and  Annabel  could  see  him  now. 

The  bayonet  was  an  object  of  peculiar  interest  to  him. 
It  was  a  savage-looking  thing.  He  ran  his  fingers  up  and 
down  its  three  fluted  sides,  touched  its  sharp  point,  and 
wondered  if  he  could  ever  have  the  heart  to  stab  anybody 


IN  PANOPLY  OF  WAR. 


THE  BAYONET  AS  A  THEORY. 


89 


with  it.  He  finally  concluded  that  he  could  and  would  if 
he  ever  got  a  chance;  and  then  he  "fixed  "  it  on  the  muz- 
zle of  his  gun  and  charged  around  the  camp,  lunging  at  im- 
aginary foes  in  a  manner  highly  suggestive  of  sanguinary 
results.  Then  he  remembered  that  the  rebels  had  bayonets, 
too,  and  he  tried  to  imagine  how  it  would  feel  to  have  one 
of  them  penetrate  his  anatomy.  The  bare  thought  of  it 
made  the  cold  shivers  chase  each  other  over  his  hodj. 

A  few  random  observations  on  the  uses  of  the  bayonet 
during  the  war,  theo- 
retical and  practical, 
may  not  be  out  of  place 
here,  even  though  they 
should,  for  the  moment, 
carry  our  young  de- 
fender of  his  country 
some  distance  ahead  in 
liis  military  career.  Si 
Klegg  fully  shared  the 
popular  delusion  in  re- 
gard to  the  devastation 
wrought  by  the  bayo- 
net. He  had  an  abiding 
faith  in  its  efficacy  as  an 
aggressive  weapon.  His 
young  blood  had  been 
curdled  by  reading  har- 
rowing descriptions  of  bayonet  charges.  He  had  seen 
pictures  of  long  lines  of  gorgeously  dressed  soldiers  ad- 
vancing upon  the  enemy  with  their  bayonets  sticking  out 
in  front,  and  he  imagined  that  when  they  reached  the  other 
fellows  they  just  used  their  bayonets  like  pitchforks,  toss- 
ing about  their  unhappy  foes  as  he  had  pitched  pumpkins 
firom  a  wagon.  He  thought  this  was  the  way  fighting  was 
done.  There  is  no  doubt  that  some  bayonet  wounds  were 
given  and  received  on  both  sides  during  the  four  years  of 


WHAT  SI  EXPECTED  TO   DO  WITH  HIS 
BAYONET. 


90  THE  FANCY  DRILL. 

war.  It  would  have  been  strange  indeed  if,  with  all  those 
two  or  three  million  keen  shafts,  somebody  did  not  get 
hurt.  But  the  number  of  men  who  were  ''prodded"  was 
small.  There  were  many  surgeons  of  large  experience  in 
field  hospitals  who  never  dressed  a  bayonet  wound. 

None  will  den^^  the  ''moral  force"  of  a  well-directed 
bayonet  charge.  Providence  gives  to  few  men  pluck 
enough — suffic2<;nt  as  to  both  quantity  and  quality — ^to 
enable  them  to  stand  long  in  open  field  before  the  onward 
sweep  of  a  compact,  serried  line,  bristling  with  points  of 
shining  steel.  An  important  factor  is  the  unearthly  yell 
that  always  accompanies  the  charge,  or  rather  is  a  neces- 
sary part  of  it.  A  bayonet  charge  without  a  yell  would  be 
as  incomplete  as  a  dance  without  music.  The  yell  itself 
was  usually  terrifying  enough  to  bleach  the  hair  of  an  ordi- 
nary man.  The  combined  efiect  was  to  greatly  stimulate 
the  natural  impulse  to  break  to  the  rear.  So  it  was  that 
only  in  very  rare  cases  was  the  bayonet  long  enough  to 
reach  for  purposes  of  blood-letting. 

Some  companies  with  ambitious  ofiicers  spent  a  great 
deal  of  time  and  perspiration  in  learning  the  picturesque 
' '  bayonet-drill. ' '  This  drill  was  a  Frenchy  affair— with  its 
'* parry"  in  "prime,"  "se-conde,"  "tierce"  and  "high 
quarte;"its  "guard,"  "lunge,"and  "blow  with  the  butt;" 
its  "advance,"  "retreat,"  and  "leap to  the  rear,  kneel  and 
over  the  head,  parr}^" — that  kept  the  men  jumping  around 
like  so  many  animated  frogs.  It  was  a  sort  of  gilt-edged 
drill  and,  like  a  ring  in  a  Fiji  Islander's  nose,  much  more 
ornamental  than  useful.  Companies  that  had  become  pro- 
ficient in  this  manual,  used  to  give  impressive  exhibitions  on 
Sundays  and  idle  days,  before  admiring  crowds  of  soldiers 
whose  militar}^  education  was  defective  in  this  respect. 
Perhaps  they  fight  on  these  scientific  principles  in  France, 
but  in  "our  war"  nobody  ever  heard  any  of  these  com- 
mands given  in  battle.  An  officer  who  attempted  to  put 
the  drill  into  actual  practice  would  have  been  sent  to  the 


'FIRST  BLOOD."  91 

rear  and  clothed  in  a  strait-jacket.     The  fancy  drill  was 
as  useless  as  a  blanket  to  a  Hottentot. 

But  the  bayonet  was  not  by  any  means  a  superfluous 
appendage.  After  Si  Klegg  got  fairly  started  into  the  field 
his  experience  ripened  rapidly.  ^'Necessity  is  the  mother 
of  invention,"  and  his  daily  needs  constantly  suggested 
new  uses  for  the  bayonet  that  were  unknown  to  military 
tactics. 

The  first  blood  that  stained  Si's  bayonet  was  not  that 
of  a  fellow-man.  Company  Q  was  on  picket.  Rations  had 
been  short  for  a  week  and  his  haversack  was  in  a  condition 
of  emptiness  that  caused  grave  forebodings.  Strict  orders 
against  foraging  had  been  issued.  Si  couldn't  quite  get  it 
straight  in  his  head  why  the  general  should  be  so  mighty 
particular  about  a  few  pigs  and  chickens  and  sweet  pota- 
toes ;  for  he  was  really  getting  hungry,  and  when  a  man 
is  in  this  condition  he  is  not  in  a  fit  mood  to  grapple  with 
fine-spun  theories  of  governmental  poHcy. 

So  when  a  fat  pig  came  wabbling  and  grunting  toward 
his  post,  it  was  to  Si  like  a  vision  of  manna  to  the  children 
of  Israel  in  the  wilderness.  A  wild,  uncontrollable  desire 
to  taste  a  fresh  spare-rib  took  possession  of  him.  Naturally 
his  first  idea  was  to  send  a  bullet  through  the  animal,  but 
the  discharge  of  his  piece  would  ''give  him  away"  at  once. 
Then  he  thought  of  the  bayonet,  and  the  problem  was 
solved.  After  a  few  strategic  movements  he  got  the  pig 
into  a  corner  and  a  vigorous  thrust  of  the  steel  did  the 
work  silently  and  eflbctually.  The  pig  made  a  good  deal 
of  noise,  but  a  well  directed  blow  with  the  butt  of  the  gun 
silenced  him  forever. 

Si  wrote  to  his  mother  that  his  bright  new  bayonet 
was  stained  with  Southern  blood,  and  the  old  lady  shud- 
dered at  the  awful  thought.  '^But,"  added  Si  ''it  wasn't 
a  man  I  kild  only  jest  a  pig." 

"I'm  so  glad!"  she  exclaimed. 

By  the  time  Si  had  been  in  the  service  a  vear  there  was 


92  THE  BAYONET  IN   PRACTICE. 

less  zeal  in  the  enforcement  of  orders  of  this  kind,  and  he 
had  become  a  very  skillful  and  successful  forager.  lie  had 
still  been  unable  to  reach  with  his  bayonet  the  body  of  a 
single  one  of  his  misguided  fellow-citizens,  but  he  had 
stabbed  a  great  many  pigs  and  sheep.  In  fact  Si  found  his 
bayonet  a  most  useful  auxiUary.  He  could  not  well  have 
got  along  without  it.    He  often  came  into  camp  with, a 


THE  ACTUAL  USES  HE  FOUND  FOR  IT. 

ham  or  a  fresh  ''flitch  "  of  bacon  impaled  on  it.     That  wa? 
a  convenient  way  to  carry  such  things. 

Uncle  Sam  generally  furnished  Si  with  plenty  of  coffee- 
roasted  and  unground— but  did  not  supply  him  with  a 
coffee-mill.  He  thought  at  first  that  the  Government  had 
forgotten  something.  He  saw  that  several  of  the  old  vet- 
erans of  '61  had  coffee-mills,  but  he  found  on  inquiry  that 
they  had  been  obtained  by  confiscation.    He  determined 


THE  ARMY  CANDLESTICK.  93 

to  supply  himself  at  the  first  opportunity,  but  in  the  mean- 
time he  was  obliged  to  use  his  bayonet  as  a  substitute,  just 
as  all  the  rest  of  the  soldiers  did.  This  innocent  use  of  the 
"cold  steel"  was  universal.  On  going  into  bivouac,  or 
halting  for  dinner  during  the  day's  march,  about  every 
other  man  squatted  on  the  ground  or  knelt  beside  a  log, 
and  with  the  butt  of  his  bayonet  pounded  up  the  kernels 
of  coffee  in  a  tin  cup,  spreading  one  hand  over  the  top  to 
prevent  the  escape  of  the  pieces.  True,  the  pulverizing  was 
not  as  thoroughly  done  as  if  the  berries  had  been  run 
through  a  mill,  but  it  was  sufficient. 

Once  in  a  while  Si's  mess  '' drew  "acandle,  but  the  Regula- 
tions did  not  provide  for  any  candlestick.  The  bayonet 
was  an  excellent  substitute.  It  could  not  have  been  more 
*' handy"  if  made  for  that  particular  purpose.  The  hol- 
low shank  was  always  ready  to  receive  the  candle, 
while  the  point  could  be  thrust  into  the  ground  or  a  log 
or  cracker-box  in  an  instant,  and  nothing  more  was  neces- 
sary. This  was  one  of  the  general  spheres  of  usefulness 
found  by  the  bayonet  during  the  war.  Barrels  of  candle- 
grease  flowed  down  its  furrowed  sides  for  every  drop  of 
human  blood  that  dimmed  its  luster.  The  soldiers  had 
little  to  read,  and  it  might  be  imagined  that  they  had  not 
much  use  for  candles  or  candlesticks;  but  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  there  were  millions  of  games  of  euchre  and 
"old  sledge "  that  had  to  be  played,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  have  light  enough  so  that  a  player  could  not  with  im- 
punity slip  aces  and  ''bowxrs"  up  the  sleeve  of  his  blouse, 
or  ''turn  jack"  from  the  bottom  of  the  ''deck."  To  pro- 
tect its  brave  defenders  from  these  fraudulent  practices  was 
no  doubt  the  object  of  the  Government  in  issuing  candles, 
as  that  was  about  all  they  were  used  for.  Si  found  his 
bayonet  a  good  thing  to  dig  sweet  potatoes  with,  and  it 
answered  well  for  a  tent-pin  in  a  sudden  emergency.  In 
many  other  ways  it  contributed  to  his  well-being— but  it 
was  a  long  time  before  he  hurt  any  rebels  with  it. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  200th  Indiana  Draws  Mules  and  Dress  Coats  and  Closes  the 
Day  with  a  Dress-parade. 

44  T  F  'twasn't  fer  one  thing,  Shorty,"  remarked  Si,  "I'd 
J^  like  ter  drive  one  o'  them  ar'  mule  teams.  I  alius  was 
a  good  hand  at  drivin'  team,  'n'  it  'd  be  big  fun  ter  jest  sit 
on  a  mule's  back  'n'  ride  all  the  time.  I  never  druv  no 
mules,  though  I  s'pose  they're  purty  much  same  's  bosses. 
But  ther'  ain't  no  glory  'n  bein'  a  mule-driver ;  he  ain't  no 
soljer.  I  reck'n  somebody  has  to  do  it,  but  carryin'  a  gun 
's  what /'listed  fer!" 

These  patriotic  observations  were  suggested  by  the 
arrival  of  the  quota  of  wagons  and  mules  for  the  200th 
Indiana.  The  allowance  of  transportation  had  been  greatly 
reduced  since  the  previous  year.  In  1861  each  company 
had  its  wagon,  with  three  or  four  in  addition  to  each 
regiment  for  headquarters  and  general  purposes.  The 
wagon  train  of  a  division  composed  of  a  dozen  regiments 
stretched  out  for  miles.  A  year  later  only  half  as  many 
were  allowed,  and  the  camp  and  garrison  equipage  and 
personal  baggage  of  officers  and  men  were  proportionately 
reduced. 

The  mules  for  the  regiment  might  at  this  time  have  been 

properly  classified  as  "  raw  material. ' '    They  were  taken  at 

random  from  the  great  government  corral,  led  over  to  the 

camp,  and  delivered  to  the  quartermaster.    Then  the  men 

who  had  been  enlisted  or  detailed  as  '^wagoners"  began 

the  work  of  organizing  their  teams. 

94 


SOLID  COMFORT.  95 

Most  of  the  mules  that  were  braying  and  exercising  their 
heels  in  the  camp  of  the  200th  Indiana  were  as  raw  as  the 
men.  Few  of  them  had  yet  been  broken  to  harness,  and 
they  resented  in  the  most  vigorous  manner  the  least  ap- 
proach to  familiarity.  Coaxing,  beating  and  swearing 
were  alike  fruitless.  The  adventures  of  the  teamsters  in 
trying  to  educate  those  depraved  and  obdurate  mules  into 
a  state  of  docility,  afforded  a  rich  entertainment  to  a  large 
and  appreciative  audience. 

After  protracted  effort  they  succeeded  in  getting  the 
refractory  animals  geared  up,  and  the  wagons  were  dis- 
patched to  the  city  after  the  baggage  the  men  had  brought 
from  Indiana.  The  trip  was  only  made  through  much 
tribulation,  but  they  finally  got  back  ^with  all  the  boxes 
and  barrels  and  *' gripsacks"  that  contained  the  home 
contributions  to  the  outfit  of  the  regiment.  The  colonel 
thought  it  would  do  no  harm  to  humor  the  boys  and  let 
them  have  these  things  while  they  lay  in  camp. 

Si  was  delighted  to  get  his  box.  Shorty  did  not  have 
anything  except  what  he  had  drawn  from  the  government, 
but  Si  had  enough  for  both.  They  fixed  up  their  part  of 
the  tent  in  a  style  that  was  regal  magnificence  compared 
with  their  condition  the  night  before.  They  built  a  * '  bunk" 
a  foot  high  out  of  the  rails  they  had  purloined  from  the 
interdicted  fence,  and  their  abundant  supply  of  blankets 
and  quilts  made  a  luxurious  couch. 

''Now  this  's  reel  nice  'n'  humlike,"  said  Si  to  his  com- 
rade, as  he  surveyed  the  result  of  their  labors.  ^'^Twas 
kind  o'  discouragin'last  night,  but  now  we've  had  a  chance 
ter  git  things  fixed,  I  don't  see  nothin'  ter  growl  'bout. 
Ye  know  we'll  take  all  these  things  'long  'th  us  when  we 
go  anywhere,  'n'  I'm  goin'  ter  sheer  'em  'th  you.  Shorty. 
We'll  have  a  bully  time!" 

Shorty  thanked  him  for  his  kind  offer  but  made  no  fur- 
ther reply.    He  had  a  pretty  correct  idea  of  what  would 


96 


THE  DRESS  COAT. 


be  the  early  fate  of  all  the  nice  things  Si's  friends  had  given 
him. 

During  the  afternoon,  Company  Q  was  ordered  to  fall 

in,  and  the  orderly  marched  it  up  to  the  quartermaster's. 

tent.    Si  wondered  what  they  were  going  to  get  this  time. 

*'Now,  men,  git  into  them  coats,"  said  the  orderly. 

"Them  coats"  were  the  regulation  ''dress  coats,"  the 

only  thing  necessary  to  complete  their 

wardrobes. 

The  dress  coat  was  another  of  the  de- 
lusions of  the  war.  It  was  a  close, 
tight-fitting  garment,  with  an  impres- 
sive row  of  brass  buttons  extending  up 
to  the  chin,  and  a  stiff  standing  collar 
that  rasped  the  ears,  save  when  an  un- 
usually long  neck  lifted  those  append-^ 
ages  to  a  safe  height.  The  sleeves  were 
small  and  left  little  freedom  of  motion 
to  the  arms.  This  coat,  as  its  name 
indicates,  was  to  be  worn  on  state  occa- 
sions. In  the  early  part  of  the  war  it 
was  considered  as  indispensable  at  dress- 
parade,  inspection  or  review  as  a  claw- 
hammer coat  at  a  swell  dinner.  Of 
course,  when  worn,  every  button  must 
be  in  its  button-hole.  A  company  looked 
as  stiff  as  a  row  of  statues.  When  the 
THE  "sweat-box."  mcrcury  was  up  in  the  nineties  it  was  a 
terrible  sw^eat-box.  Not  a  breath  of  air  could  reach  the 
sweltering  body. 

When  the  hot  work  of  the  war  came  the  dress  coat  had 
to  go,  except  among  the  troops  which  were  permanently 
stationed  at  posts  iii  the  rear.  On  a  "shelter-tent "  cam- 
paign inspections  and  reviews  were  unheard  of,  and  the 
soldiers  were  wise  enough  to  follow  the  injunction  given 
the  apostles,  to  "provide  neither  two  coats"-— the  over- 


PREYING  ON  THE  NEW  SOLDIERS.  97 

roat  being  excepted.  For  all  ordinary  wear  the  blouse 
was  the  garment  that  filled  the  bill.  On  the  first  hard 
march  the  dress-coats  disappeared  rapidly.  They  were 
recklessly  flung  awa}^  to  lighten  knapsacks  and  ease 
aching  shoulders,  or  were  traded  off  to  the  negroes  for 
chickens  and  other  eatables. 

But  Si  thought  it  was  a  splendid  thing.  He  succeeded 
in  getting  one  with  about  the  right  length  of  sleeve,  but 
owing  to  his  tendency  to  corpulence,  it  was  a  very  tight 
squeeze  to  get  it  buttoned.  When  he  had  accomplished  it 
he  felt  as  if  he  had  a  sheet-iron  coat  riveted  around  him. 
His  eye  followed  down  the  rov^  of  shining  buttons  w4th  its 
graceful  swell  and  the  blue-corded  seams,  and  he  thought 
it  was  the  nicest  coat  he  had  ever  seen.  He  only  lacked 
the  shoulder-straps  to  look  like  an  oflScer. 

Shorty  smiled  at  Si's  enthusiasm.  He  drew  one  of  the 
coats  only  because  he  had  to;  he  did  not  want  it,  and 
mentally  resolved  that  he  would  get  rid  of  it  at  the  first 
opportunity. 

The  camp  of  the  200th  Indiana  swarmed  with  venders 
of  medicines,  razors,  coffee-pots,  tin  and  sheet-iron  ware, 
underclothing,  combs  and  an  endless  variety  of  useless 
things  which  they  labored  to  convince  the  new  soldiers 
were  indispensable  to  them.  Most  of  the  men  were  well 
supplied  with  money,  which  the^^  spent  lavishl3^  Of  course 
they  wanted  to  take  the  field  in  good  shape,  prepared  to 
make  themselves  as  useful  as  possible,  and  they  fell  an  easy 
prey  to  the  peddlers,  who  did  a  thriving  business. 

Si  was  determined  to  be  thoroughly  equipped  and  proved 
a  good  customer.  He  bought  a  frying-pan  and  a  patent 
coffee-pot  warranted  to  make  as  delectable  a  beverage  as 
he  ever  drank  at  home.  These  he  was  sure  he  would  need. 
For  some  time  he  had  observed,  with  emotions  of  pleasure, 
that  his  face  was  beginning  to  show  symptoms  of  a  hairy 
growth,  marking  the  threshold  of  manhood.  He  had  said 
notking  about  it  at  home  because,  like  all  other  boys,  he 


98  THE  DELUSIVE  BREASTPLATE. 

was  ashamed  of  it.  But  he  was  sure  he  would  need  a 
razor  before  he  got  back,  and  so  he  bought  a  complete 
shaving  apparatus.  He  would  carry  it  along  until  he 
should  find  occasion  to  use  it. 

At  length  a  man  made  his  appearance  with  a  wonderful 
life-saving  contrivance.  It  was  a  breastplate  of  steel, 
shaped  to  fit  the  contour  of  the  bod3',  to  be  worn  under  the 
clothing  when  in  battle,  as  a  protection  against  bullets.  It 
was  suggestive  of  the  armor  worn  by  knights  in  the  olden 
time.  The  vender  expatiated  with  great  eloquence  and 
pathos  upon  the  merits  of  this  concern.  He  said  it  was 
a  duty  that  every  man  owed  to  himself,  to  his  family  and 
to  his  country  to  buy  one.  It  was  better  than  a  life  insur- 
ance policy.  ''You  can  jest  walk  right  through  a  brigade 
o'  rebels  and  they  can't  phaze  ye !" 

"Will — will  she  stop  cannon  balls?"  asked  Si,  who  had 
listened  with  keen  interest  to  the  graphic  portrayal  of  its 
virtues,  and  had  put  one  under  his  blouse  to  see  how  it 
would  fit. 

"It  might,  but  I  can't  say  for  sartin,  as  I've  never  tried 
it.  I  rayther  think,  my  young  friend,  that  if  a  cannon  ball 
hits  ye  fair  an'  square  you're  a  goner.  But  it's  the  bullets 
as  does  most  o'  the  mischief,  an'  it'll  turn  them  like  a 
duck's  back  sheds  water.  Jest  think,  young  man,  how 
much  more  contented  yer  mother'd  be  if  she  kno wed  ye  had 
one  o'  these  life-savers." 

The  delusive  idea  was  not  a  little  captivating,  and  Si 
really  believed  it  was  a  good  thing.  He  would  have 
bought  one  but  for  a  veteran  soldier  who  was  standing  by- 

"They  ain't  no  good,"  he  said.  "A  lot  of  our  boys  got 
fooled  on  'em.  Most  on  'em  was  thro  wed  away  'fore  we  ever 
got  near  a  fight.  When  we  did  strike  a  battle  a  few  wore 
'em  in,  but  some  on  'em  got  killed  jest  the  same.  The  bul- 
lets went  right  through  them  things.  The  other  fel- 
lers made  so  much  fun  o'  them  that  wore  'em,  for  bein* 
towards,  that  they  flung  'em  away  and  that's  the  last 


A  SLIGHT  MISUNDERSTANDING.  99 

we  ever  seen  on  'em.     Yell  be  wastin'  yer  money  if  ye 
buy  it." 

The  idea  that  fear  was  the  principle  underlying  the  use 
of  the  breastplate  settled  the  question  with  Si.  He  had 
not  thought  of  that.  He  declined  to  purchase,  telling  the 
man  that  he  guessed  he  was  not  afraid  to  go  in  and  take 
his  chances  along  with  the  rest.  He  didn't  believe  the 
rebels  had  them,  and  it  wouldn't  be  hardly  fair,  anyway. 
Some  of  them  were  bought  by  members  of  the  200th,  but 
the  only  use  ever  made  of  them  was  as  a  substitute  for 
frying-pans. 

Among  the  numerous  devices  to  catch  the  money  of  the 
soldiers,  a  few  were  really  valuable.  One  of  these,  which 
will  be  kindly  remembered  by  many,  was  an  ingenious 
combination  of  knife,  fork  and  spoon,  which,  when  not 
in  use,  could  be  folded  up  into  small  compass  and  car* 
ried  in  the  haversack  or  pocket.  The  novel  contrivance 
pleased  Si  and  he  bought  one,  although  his  mother  had 
fitted  him  out  with  cutlery.  It  turned  out  to  be  the  best 
of  all  his  investments,  doing  him  good  service  long  after 
the  pretty  knife  and  fork  his  mother  gave  him  had  gone 
the  way  of  all  things  in  the  army. 

''Fall  in.  Company  Q,  lively,  in  undress  uniform!" 
Toward  evening  this  command  of  the  orderly  startled 
the  company.    Si  rushed  into  his  tent,  threw  off  his  blouse, 
and  was  making  further  hasty  efforts  to  disrobe,  when 
Shorty  entered. 

''What  on  arth  ar'  jq  doin',  Si?"  he  said.  '"Taint  no 
time  ter  be  goin'  ter  bed !  Anybody 'd  think  ye  was  crazy." 
"Mebbe  I  didn't  understand  the  ord'ly  jest  right,  "replied 
Si;  "but  I  thought  he  said  we  was  to  come  out'n  undress 
uniform,  'n'  I  didn't  know  what  that  meant  'less  it  was 
ter  take  our  clothes  off.  It  did  seem  kind  o'  queer,  but 
orders  is  orders,  'n'  I  didn't  stop  ter  ax  no  questions." 

"You  git  into  yer  clothes  agin !"  said  Shorty,  as  he  threw 
himself  upon  the  bunk  almost  bursting  with  laughter. 


100 


SHORTY  LAUGHS  AT  SIS  EXPENSE. 


*'0h,  Si,  but  that's  a  good  joke  on  ye!"  and  Shorty  rolled 
over  and  over  in  a  paroxysm  of  merriment. 

*'I  don't  see  nothin'  ter  laugh  at,"  said  Si.  ''I  was  only 
tfyin'  the  best  I  knew  how  ter  do  what  the  ord'ly  said." 

*'Ye  wants  ter  scratch  gravel,  'cause  the  comp'ny  's 
formin'.  I  hain't  got  time  now;  but  I'll  'splain  it  toyearter 
a  while."    And  Short^^  went  ofif  into  another  spasm. 

''I  sh'd  think  it  was  you  that's  crazy,"  said  Si,  as  he 
put  on  his  blouse.     He  was  a  little  piqued  that  his  comrade 
/  should    be    so   mirthful 

at  his  expense,  particu- 
larly when  he  was  so 
thoroughly  conscious  of 
the  rectitude  of  his  mo- 
tives. 

Si  and  Shorty  hurried 
to  their  places  in  the 
company,  just  as  the 
orderly  was  getting 
ready  to  yell  at  them 
for  being  behind.  The 
<1  -^^  captain  told  the  men 
that  there  was  to  be 
'a    dress-parade    of  the 

' regiment  that  evening, 

and  he  was  very  desir- 

*A   LITERAL   INTERPRETATION.  OUS     that      CompaUy      Q 

should  make  a  creditable  showing.  He  hoped  each  man 
would  feel  a  pride  in  his  personal  appearance  and  have 
his  hair  combed,  his  clothes  brushed,  and  his  shoes  nicely 
blackened.  He  wanted  to  show  the  rust}'  old  veterans 
how  soldiers  ought  to  keep  themselves. 

As  Si  walked  back  to  the  tent  with  Shorty,  he  thought  of 
the  episode  a  few  minutes  before  but  said  nothing.  He 
realized  that  he  had  misinterpreted  the  orderly's  command, 
and  seemed  disposed  to  drop  the  subject.    But  Shorty  felt 


PREPARING  FOR  DRESS-PARADE.  101 

that  he  ought  to  enlighten  him  and  he  said,  while  Si  be- 
gan to  brush  his  shoes  : 

''When  ye  puts  on  the  Sunday-go-to-meetin'  coat  with 
the  long  row  o'  brass  buttons,  't  ye  drawed  f  m  the  quar- 
termaster a  little  bit  ago,  they  calls  that  yer  'dress 
uniform. '  '  Undress  uniform'  's  when  ye  wear  jest  3^er  every- 
day duds.  Now  d'ye  understand  what  I  was  laughin'  at? 
I'm  sorry  Si,  but  I  couldn't  help  it  'f  I  was  to  ha'  been  shot 
ferit!" 

"That^s  all  right,  pard,"  said  Si,  "I'd  ha'  laughed  my- 
self'f  I'd  knowed  what  you  did.  A  feller  what  ain't  used 
tei"  these  things  can't larn  'em  all  in  a  minit.  Ef  the  ord'ly 
wanted  us  ter  wear  our  blouses  why  didn't  he  say  so. 
How  sh'd  I  know  that  'undress'  didn't  mean  the  same  'n 
the  army  reggelations  's  it  does  to  hum.  That  day  I  'listed 
the  doctor  made  me  shuck  myself,  'n'  I  s 'posed  this  was 
goin'  ter  be  some  such  a  pufiformance  as  that.  I  reck'n 
I'll  be  larnin'  suthin'  new  almost  everv  dav  fer  quite  a 
spell." 

"Shouldn't  wonder  'f  ye  would,"  said  Shorty. 

At  the  hour  appointed  the  call  was  sounded  for  dress- 
parade.  It  was  the  first  attempt  the  200th  Indiana  had 
made  at  anything  in  the  line  of  tactics.  There  had  not  yet 
been  an  hour's  drill,  but  the  officers  thought  they  could 
manage  to  get  their  men  out  to  the  line  in  some  way.  The 
colonel  wanted  to  put  his  command  on  exhibition,  that 
the  old  soldiers  might  see  what  a  large,  fine  regiment  he 
had'.  He  thought  the  veterans  must  be  getting  a  gooc 
deal  discouraged  by  this  time,  and  the  sight  of  such  a 
reinforcement  would  cheer  them  up. 

The  regimental  flags,  fresh  and  new,  with  their  bright 
stripes  and  gleaming  stars,  were  stationed  on  the  color 
line,  and  "markers"  with  fluttering  guidons  were  posted 
on  either  flank  to  direct  the  formation.  The  drum-major, 
arrayed  like  Solomon  in  all  his  glory,  with  a  towering 
shako  on  his  head,  and  fantastically  twirling  and  bobbing 


102 


THE  LORDLY  DRUM-MAJOR. 


his  gilded  and  tasseled  baton,  marched  the  band  to  its 
place  at  the  right  of  the  line. 

Many  of  the  veteran  regiments  had  outgrown  such 
frivolities  as  dress-parades,  and  only  indulged  in  them  at 
long  intervals.  Just  now  their  external  appearance  was 
so  shabby  for  lack  of  clothes,  that  a  dress-parade  -would 

have  been  a  painful  spec- 
tacle. So  the  ragged  vet- 
erans turned  out  by  hun- 
dreds to  give  the  new 
regiment  a  good  send-off, 
bent  on  getting  out  of  the 
display  all  the  fun  they 
could.  The  lordly  drum- 
major  drew  their  fire  in  a 
kway  that  made  him  feel 
as  if  hew^ould  like  to  have 
the  ground  open  under  his 
feet  and  let  him  drop  in 
out  of  sight. 

''Hello,  Gineral,  when's 
the  army  goin'to  move?" 
''Howly  Saint  Path- 
rick,  but  did  yez  iver  see 
the  loikes  av  the  way  he 
handles  that  s  hi  Italy  ! 
Give  us  a  chune,  will 
yez?  " 

**  Stand  back,  boys,  an' 
THE  DRUM-MAJOR.  givc     'im     room.        Here 

comes  the  boss  of  all  creation !  " 

The  drum-major  could  hardly  be  blamed  for  wishing  he 
hadn't  come.  Up  in  Indiana,  when,  on  public  occasions, 
he  appeared  in  magnificent  pomp,  he  had  always  received 
an  ovation  from  the  admiring  populace  who  gazed  upon 
him  with  the  profoundest  awe,  wondering  how  one  man 


THE  TROUBLE  BEGINS.  103 

could  hold  so  much  dignity.  He  thought  these  scoffing 
veterans  must  belong  to  some  different  branch  of  the 
human  family. 

Throughout  the  camp  of  the  200th  all  vv-as  confusion 
as  the  companies  were  formed  for  the  momentous  event. 
The  men  were  imprisoned  in  their  new  dress-coats,  and, 
with  their  shining  muskets  and  clean,  new  accouterments, 
presented  an  appearance  at  once  both  attractive  and  war- 
like. They  looked  more  like  soldiers  than  at  any  previous 
time  in  their  as  yet  brief  military  career. 

Si  Klegg  was  promptly  in  his  place.  His  make-up  was 
faultless.  His  face  was  clean,  his  shoes  were  nicely  pol- 
ished, and  around  his  neck  was  a  new  paper  collar.  He 
seemed  to  be  well  satisfied  with  himself,  as  he  had  a  right 
to  be.  It  is  true  he  had  slipped  his  cartridge-box  on  his 
belt  upside  down,  and  had  his  bayonet-scabbard  on  the 
wrong  side ;  but  these  little  irregularities  were  quickly  cor- 
rected when  his  attention  was  called  to  them  by  one  of 
the  file-closers. 

The  captain  talked  to  the  men  in  a  fatherl^^  way,  ex- 
pressing the  hope  that  they  would  carry  themselves  like 
soldiers,  and  reminding  them  that  the  eyes  of  the  veterans 
would  be  upon  them.  His  faith  was  a  little  shaky  as  to 
^,he  appearance  they  would  make  when  in  motion.  He 
thought  that  if  he  could  only  get  them  out  to  the  color- 
line,  they  would  be  all  right. 

''Attention,  company!  Right— Face!"  The  captain  had 
been  studying  up  a  little  and  had  learned  a  few  simple 
commands. 

The  men  faced  to  all  points  of  the  compass,  but  the  officers 
and  sergeants  at  length  got  them  headed  the  right  way. 
They  did  not  know  anything  about  "doubling  up"  yet. 
In  fact  the  captain  was  not  very  clear  about  it  himself,  and 
he  thought  it  wise  to  move  the  company  "in  two  ranks." 

"Forward— March!" 

The  fif*^  *jqueaked  and  the  drum  rattled  and  away  went 


104  SI  KLEGG  MAKES  A  SLIP. 

Company  Q.  Most  of  the  men  had  a  theory  that  they 
must  step  with  the  beat  of  the  drum,  but  there  was  a  lack 
of  uniformity  in  carrying  it  into  practice.  Part  of  them 
who  happened  to  start  that  way  properly  brought  down 
the  left  foot  at  the  accented  beat ;  some  had  the  right  foot 
— which  was  the  wrong  one — to  the  drum ;  while  others, 
who  seemed  to  have  no  music  in  their  soles,  just  tramped 
along  as  though  they  were  going  to  mill,  without  any 
reference  to  the  measure. 

''Left!— Left!— Left! "  exclaimed  the  captain  sharplj^, 
stamping  his  left  foot  on  the  ground  to  give  force  to  the 
word.     ''  Get  the  step  there,  men !  " 

''Getting  the  step,"  was  an  easier  thing  for  the  tongue 
to  say  than  for  unlearned  feet  to  do.  In  the  effort  to 
"change  step  "  Si  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  He  hopped  along 
and  stumbled,  and  kicked  the  shins  of  the  man  behind  him 
and  the  calves  of  the  one  in  front,  finally  settling  down 
again  into  the  same  step  with  which  he  started. 

* '  Hayfoot — Strawfoot !  Ha3^foot — Str awfoot ' '  shouted 
the  iniquitous  veterans  as  Company  Q's  v.^riggling  laby- 
rinth of  legs  came  in  sight. 

"Hey,  young  feller,  take  off  that  'ere  paper  collar  anV 
tie  it  'round  your  left  leg  so  's  ye  can  learn  to  march !  "        ; 

Si  knew  intuitiveh^  that  he  was  the  person  at  whom  the 
harrowing  gibe  was  aimed.  His  young  vSpirit  rebelled  and 
his  tongue  got  the  better  of  him  before  he  could  curb  its 
impatience. 

"You  fellers  thinks  ^^e're  smart,  but  if  I " 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  dreadful  thought  of  retri- 
bution in  Si's  mind,  its  utterance  was  suddenly  cut  off,  for 
the  captain  came  down  on  him  like  a  thunderbolt. 

"Don't  you  know,  sir,  that  you  must  not  talk  in  ranks  ? 
1*11  teach  you  in  a  Avay  that  you'll  remember.  Orderly, 
have  Klegg  put  through  an  hour's  knapsack  drill  as  soon 
as  the  parade  is  dismissed — no,  I  guess  half  an  hour  will 
do  for  the  first  time.    See  that  the  job  is  well  done."     , 


si's  sore  distress.  105 

*' Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  orderly,  although  he  had  no  idea 
-what  a  "knapsack  drill "  was.  The  anger  and  stem  words 
of  the  captain  had  a  crushing  effect  upon  poor  Si.  He  grew 
'white  and  red  by  turns  with  shame  and  mortification, 
wondering,  meanwhile,  what  the  dire  punishment  was  that 
he  had  been  sentenced  to  undergo. 

"Shorty,"  he  said  in  a  tremulous  whisper,  after  the  com- 
pany had  got  into  line,  "what's  knapsack  drill?  " 

"Don't  ax  me,"  replied  his  comrade,  "ye'll  find  out  if 
Cap.  don't  weaken!"  It  was  only  by  great  effort  that 
Shorty  suppressed  a  laugh. 

So  Si  stood  there,  pale  and  trembling,  while  the  band 
played  "Hail  Columbia " down  the  line  and  came  skipping 
back  to  the  lively  strains  of  "The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me." 
This  tune  drove  the  iron  deep  into  Si's  suffering  soul. 
Si'ppose  Annabel  could  see  him  while  he  was  going  through 
that  knapsack  drill — whatever  it  ^^as !  He  would  ask  the* 
boys  not  to  write  home  anything  about  it. 

Then  the  adjutant  marched  from  the  right  flank  down 
to  the  colors  and  out  to  within  a  few  paces  of  the  colonel 
who  was  standing  with  folded  arms  like  a  brass-mounted 
statue.     Then  he  faced  about  and  gave  the  order : 

* '  Battalion !    Present— Arms ! ' ' 

The  adjutant  had  "skipped"  opening  the  ranks  according 
i:o  the  tactics,  because  few  of  the  officers  and  fewer  still  of  the 
men  understood  the  movement.  For  a  similar  reason  the 
men  had  stood  with  their  muskets  at  a  "shoulder" — in  the 
tactics  of  more  rnoderndays  known  as  a  "carry" — ^because 
in  this  position  they  could  not  well  help  holding  them  in  a 
uniform  way.  The  colonel  was  so  apprehensive  of  chaos 
if  the  "order  arms"  and  "parade  rest"  were  attempted 
that  he  had  directed  their  omission  from  the  program. 

But  the  "present  arms"  could  not  be  left  out  of  a  dress- 
parade.  The  colonel's  heart  sank  as  the  adjutant  gave  the 
command.  The  result  fully  justified  his  fears.  The  captains 
had  been  ordered  to  instruct  their  men  how  to  do  it  before 


106  THE  DRESS-PARADE. 

marching  out  to  the  color-line,  but  in  the  hurry  and  excite- 
ment most  of  them  had  forgotten  it.  It  took  about  five 
minutes  to  get  all  the  guns  into  the  prescribed  position. 

Then  the  adjutant  faced  about,  saluted  the  colonel,  and 
told  him  the  parade  was  formed ;  and  the  colonel  looked  as 
though  he  were  glad  of  it,  after  it  had  taken  so  long  to  do 
it. 

The  orderly  sergeants,  who  had  been  carefully  ''coached  '* 
by  the  sergeant-major,  massed  in  the  center  of  the  line, 
charged  upon  the  adjutant,  and  informed  him  that  the 
men  of  their  respective  companies  were  ''all  present  or 
accounted  for."  They  returned  to  their  posts  and  the 
officers  executed  a  similar  movement,  marching  up  to 
within  speaking  distance  of  the  colonel,  where  they  hailed 
and  made  a  profound  salute.  The  colonel  congratulated 
them  upon  the  fine  appearance  of  their  men.  He  told  them 
that  drilling  would  begin  at  once,  and  he  hoped  no  effort 
v^ould  be  spared  to  bring  the  200th  Indiana  up  to  the 
highest  state  of  efficiency  for  active  service.  The  parade 
was  dismissed,  and  the  orderly  sergeants  piloted  their  com- 
panies back  to  their  respective  grounds  as  best  they  could. 

Si  Klegg  had  taken  very  little  interest  in  the  solemn  pro- 
ceedings. His  thoughts  were  centered  on  the  knapsack 
drill.  He  hoped  the  captain  and  the  orderly  would  forget 
all  about  it— but  they  didn't. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

In  which  Si  is  Disciplined  by  a  "Knapsack  Drill,"  and  Gets  Even 
WITH  THE  Orderly,  but  Suffers  in  Consequence. 

4  4  TV  1  OW,  Klegg,"  said  the  orderly,  as  soon  as  Company 

i\  Q  had  broken  ranks/ *  git  yerself  ready.  Ye  know 
what  the  captain  said." 

"I  dunno— what  ye  want— me  ter  do!"  said  Si,  who 
could  hardly  have  felt  worse- if  he  had  been  ordered  to  be 
shot. 

The  orderly  didn't  know,  either,  but  he  went  and  asked 
the  captain,  who  in  a  few  words  explained  to  him  the  mys- 
teries of  a  knapsack  drill. 

**  And  detail  a  guard,  orderly,"  he  said,  "to  see  that  the 
young  rascal  keeps  moving." 

Returning,  the  orderly  found  Si  sitting  on  the  edge  of 
his  bunk,  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands— a  picture  of 
despair.  The  orderly  considerately  remarked  that  he  was 
sorry  for  him,  "but  I  can't  help  it,  ye  know." 

Si  said  it  was  all  right,  he  guessed  he  would  live  through 
it. 

"'Tain't  nothin'  Si,"  said  Shorty,  "lots  on  'em  has  ter 
do  it.  Mebbe  ye'U  be  a  bit  tired  'fore  ye  git  done,  but 
'twon't  hurt  ye  any." 

Si  arose  with  the  air  of  a  malefactor  about  to  start  for 
the  scaffold,  and  in  a  subdued  voice  remarked  that  he  was 
ready. 

"Emptv  out  ver  knapsack!"  said  the  orderly. 

107 


108  THE  KNAPSACK  DRILL. 

Si  took  out  all  his  things  and  piled  them  on  his  bunk. 
Shorty  said  he  would  take  care  of  them  till  he  came  back. 

**Now  pick  'er  up  and  come  on!" 

The  orderly  led  the  way  and  Si  meekly  followed,  nerving 
himself  for  the  trial.  It  was  the  first  case  of  discipline  in 
the  company,  and  all  the  boys  turned  out  to  see  the 
sport.  A  little  way  from  the  camp  was  a  pile  of  old 
bricks.  Thither  the  orderly  bent  his  steps,  and  as  he 
stopped  beside  the  heap  an  idea  of  what  a  knapsack  drill 
was  flashed  across  Si's  mind. 

^'Fill  up  yer  knapsack  with  them  bricks!"  said  the  or- 
derly. 

If  the  orderly  had  been  the  person  responsible  for  this 
indignity,  Si  would  probabty  have  knocked  him  down. 
As  it  was  he  began  slowly  to  lay  in  the  bricks,  registering 
a  vow  that  he  would  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  a  chance  to 
square  accounts  with  the  captain. 

It  would  take  a  large  volume  to  hold  all  the  oaths  of 
vengeance  that  were  rriade  under  similar  circumstances 
during  the  war.  A  page  would  contain  ajl  of  them  that 
were  ever  carried  out. 

When  Si  had  stowed  awray  four  or  five  of  the  bricks  he 
looked  up  appealingly  at  the  orderly,  as  if  to  inquire 
whether  they  were  not  sufficient  to  appease  the  demands  of 
justice  and  the  wrath  of  the  captain. 

"That  ain't  more'n  half  full.  He  said  to  fill  'er  as  full  as 
she'd  hold." 

'a  didn't 'list  ter  be  a  hod-carrier,  "said  Si.  "Ef  Iwanted 
a  job  o'  that  kind  I  c'd  git  it  'thout  comin'  this  fur  huntin' 
arter  it!" 

**Now  buckle  'er  up,"  said  the  orderly,  after  Si  had  laid 
in  a  few  more.  **I  reck'n  ye  can't  sling  'er  alone.  Here,  a 
couple  o'  you  men,  give  him  a  lift!" 

The  knapsack  with  its  hateful  load  was  lifted  upon  Si's 
shoulders  and  the  straps  duly  secured.  Then  the  orderly 
Cvscorted  him  back  to  the  company  street . 


SI  ENTERTAINS  THE  BOYS 


109 


*' March  up  and  down  here  for  thirty  minutes,"  said  the 
orderly,  taking  out  his  watch,  ''an'  ye'll  have  to  keep 
goin',  too,  'cause  the  guard  '11  stick  ye  with  his  bay'net  if 
ye  don't.    I'll  let  ye  know  when  the  time  's  up." 

Si  began  his  tramp,  and  the  orderly  detailed  a  guard 
who,  with  fixed  bayonet,  ^vas  instructed  not  to  permit  the 
culprit  to  stop  for  a  single  moment.  The  captain  had  im- 
pressed upon  the  orderly  the  necessity  of  carr^ang  out  his 
orders  to  the  letter, 
as  it  would  have  a 
salutary  effect  upon 
the  company. 

Si  had  already  be- 
come a  favorite 
among  his  com- 
rades, and  there  was 
a  universal  feeling  of 
sympathy  for  him  in 
the  hour  of  his  ca- 
lamity. A  few  rude 
jests  were  ventur- 
ed, but  they  were 
promptly  rebuked. 
It  was  not  long  till 
his  shoulders  began 
1o  ache,  but  he  ut- 
tered not  a  word 
of  complaint.  He 
was  determined  to 
show  his  grit,  and 
patiently  trudged  to  and  fro,  leaning  forward  more  and 
more  as  the  burden  grew  heavier,  until  his  penance  -was 
done.  Once  the  captain  came  out,  viewed  the  scene  with 
satisfaction  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  returned  to  his 
tent.  Si  would  have  given  a  month's  pay  for  the  privil- 
ege of  making  him  shoulder  that  knapsack  full  of  bricks* 


si's  first  penance. 


110  AN  IDLE  VOW  OF  VENGEANCE. 

He  would  volunteer  to  serve  as  the  guard,  and  he  would 
do  his  duty  ''right  up  to  the  handle." 

Shorty  had  stayed  in  the  tent  while  his  ''pard  "was  pay- 
ing the  penalt}^  of  his  "conduct  prejudicial  to  good  order 
and  military  discipline, ' '  not  desiring  to  witness  his  humil- 
iation. ''Hello,  Si,"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  latter  entered  and 
threw  himself  upon  the  bunk  to  rest. 

"Ef  I  don't  fix  the  cap'n  for  this,  one  o'^these  days! "said 
Si. 

"Oh,  no,  ye  won't  do  no  sich  a  thing,"  replied  Shorty. 
*'The  boys  always  says  that,  but  they  mostly  fergits  it 
the  next' day.  Sich  things  has  ter  be  did  in  the  army — 
leastwise  the  ossifers  thinks  they  does.  But  my  notion  is 
that  Cap.  piled  it  onto  you  purty  heavy  fur  the  little  mis- 
take ye  made.  He  mout  ha'  knowed  ye  didn't  mean  no 
harm." 

"Is'pose  'twan't  jest  'cordin'  to  Hoyle  fer  me  ter  sing 
out  the  way  I  did,  but  them  fellers  was  mighty  aggravatin', 
n'  I  couldn't  help  it.    It  hollered  itself." 

"Ye  don't  want  ter  fergit"  said  Shorty,  " 't  them's  the 
«ame  boys  't  gin  us  that  coffee  yisterdy." 

"That  coffee,  "replied  Si,  "likesuthin'  I  used  to  read 'bout 
'n  the  Bible,  'covers  a  multitude  o'  sins,'  but  seems  ter  me 
they  mout  be  a  leetle  more  civil  like." 

Si  lay  for  a  few  minutes  and  thought  of  the  ludicrous 
features  of  the  case. 

"It  was  funny,  wasn't  it.  Shorty,"  he  said,  bursting 
into  a  laugh,  "anyhow,  I'd  ha'  thought  it  was  ef  some 
other  feller  'd  had  ter  do  it.  The  idee  o'  marchin'  out  there 
with  a  knapsack  full  o'  bricks  on  my  back !" 

"  That's  a fack, "  answered  Shorty,  "but  'tain't  a patchin' 
ter  what  they  does  ter  them  that's  reel  ugly ;  and  there's 
some  o'  the  soljers  that's  chuck  full  o'  the  old  Nick.  Ye'U 
have  ter  eddicate  yer  tongue  a  leetle,  Si,  er  it'll  git  ye  inter 
^^mss  trouble  'n  this.    You're  used  ter  alius  sayin'  jest  what 


A  CAMP  DIVERSION.  Hi 

ye  think,  but  ye  can't  do  it  in  the  army— that  is  ye  can  ef 
ye  want  ter,  but  it  don't  pay." 

After  supper  Si  got  permission  to  visit  the  camp  of  one 
of  the  old  regiments  not  far  away,  to  see  some  of  his  friends 
who  had  enlisted  the  year  before.  The  veterans  were  hav- 
ing a  frolic.  Si  elbowed  his  way  into  a  crowd  in  the  cen- 
ter of  which  a  dozen  men  were  standing  around  an  out- 
stretched blanket,  with  their  hands  firmly  grasping  its 
edges.  He  stood  for  a  moment,  with  his  hands  in  his 
trousers'  pockets,  wondering  what  it  all  meant.  Then  he 
ventured  to  ask  one  of  the  spectators  what  they  were 
doing. 

''0,  jest  havin'  a  little  sport !"  w^as  the  answer. 

''I'd  like  ter  know,  "said  Si,  **whar'sthe  fun  in  them  fellers 
stan'in'like  so  many  stoughton-bottleshangin'  on  ter  that 
blanket,  'n'  the  crowd  jest  lookin'  at  em' !  Mebbe  its  fun 
but  I  can't  see  it." 

''Keep  yer  eye  on  that  blanket  'bout  five  seconds  an' 
p'r'aps  ye'll  see  suthin'  wuth  lookin'  at !" 

The  veteran  drew  back  a  step  and  winked  to  one  or  two 
of  his  comrades.  Seizing  Si  by  the  legs  they  pitched  him 
over,  a  helpless  heap,  upon  the  blanket.  There  was  a  quick 
outward  pull  in  all  directions  upon  the  edges  of  the  blanket 
which  straightened  it  suddenly  and  he  went  up  four  or 
five  feet  in  the  air.  The  tension  was  relaxed  for  an  instant 
as  he  came  down.  Then  with  a  fiendish  delight  the  men 
braced  their  feet,  swaying  their  bodies  outward,  and  their 
victim  bounded  up,  with  sprawling  limbs,  higher  than  be- 
fore. Powerless  to  help  himself  in  the  slightest  degree,  he 
was  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  the  barbarians. 

"  0-o-o-oh  !  — Ou-ou-ouch  !  Sa-a-ay  !  Hold  on  !  Don't 
k-k-kill  a  feller!" 

Si  was  not  suffering  any  serious  personal  damage,  but 
never  before  had  he  been  so  badly  frightened. 

He  yelled  and  begged  and  pleaded,  while  the  tossers  and 
the  bystanders  screamed  in  their  enjoyment  of  the  scene. 


112 


SI  LEARNS  SOMETHING  SUDDENLY. 


The^^  bounced  him  in  the  air  a  dozen  times  and  then  released 
him.  Flushed,  trembling  and  breathless,  he  hardly  knew  for 
a  while  whether  he  was  standing  onhis  feet  or  on  his  head. 
None  found  a  more  genuine  pleasure  in  the  spectacle  than  a 
few  raw  soldiers  who,  having  just  been  "tossed"  them- 
selves, shouted  over  the  discomfiture  of  other  victims. 


VETERANS   ON   A   FROLIC. 


Si  was  pretty  thoroughly  shaken  up,  but  finding  that  he 
was  not  hurt  soon  recovered  his  composure. 

''Do  ye  understand  it  now?"  asked  the  veteran. 

Si  replied  that  he  believed  he  did.  The  information  he 
sought  had  come  to  him  w^ith  a  suddenness  and  complete- 
ness that  fully  satisfied  his  curiosity. 

"An'  d'ye  see  now  whar  the  fun  comes  in?" 


SI  MAKES  A  BARGAIN.  113 


"Ya-a-a-s!"  said  Si,  with  a  feeble  attempt  to  smile. 
'^  'Feared  like  'twas  big  fun  — fer  you  fellers  I" 

**Ye  know  when  ye  jines  a  serciety,"  said  the  veteran,  "ye 
has  ter  be  'nishiated.  This  is  how  we  'nishiates  the  boys 
that  jines  the  army." 

"Say,  pard,"  remarked  Si,  scratching  his  head  reflect- 
ively, as  a  remembrance  of  the  knapsack  drill  flitted  across 
his  mind,  "I'd  like  ter  have  a  lot  o'  ye  come  over  to  the 
200th  Injianny  'n'  'nishiate  the  cap'n  n'  ordly  of  Comp'ny 
Q.  I  dunno  anybody  't  needs  it  wuss  'n  they  does.  I'll  let 
ye  have  my  blanket  ter  go  through  the  cerrymony." 

"We  has  ter  go  kind  o' light  on  the  oflicers,  but  if  we  had 
the  orderly  here  we'd  fix  'im." 

"Thar  he  comes  now,  true's  I'm  alive,"  said  Si,  as  a  little 
squad  of  men  approached  the  scene  of  hilarity. 

Sure  enough,  there  was  the  executive  officer  of  Company 
Q  sauntering  over  to  make  a  friendly  call. 

"Got  a  grudge  agin  the  orderly?"  asked  the  veteran. 

"I'll  tell  ye  how  'twas.  I  s'pose  ye  know  what  a  knap- 
sack drill  is?" 

"Reck'n  I  ought  ter.    Been  through  it  times  'nough." 

"That's  what  I  thought, ' '  said  Si.  "  Wall,  this  arternoon, 
'twan't  nothin'  ter  speak  of 't  I  done,  but  the  cap'n  got 
mad  'n'  said  I'd  have  to  be  put  through  a  knapsack  drill. 
The  ord'ly  he  bossed  the  job  'n'  made  me  fill  my  knapsack 
clear  full  o'  bricks.  Now  ye  know  why  I'd  like  ter  see  'em 
'nishiated.  I'd  a  leetle  ruther  it'd  be  the  cap'n,  but  the 
ord'ly '11  do.  I'll  jest  give  ye  five  dollars,  cash  down,  efye'll 
bounce  him." 

"Hand  over  yer  spondulix.  I'll  give  it  back  to  ye  el  we 
don't  give  him  the  liveliest  tossin'  he  ever  had." 

Si  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  at  once  placed  a  f!v« 
dollar  bill  in  the  veteran's  ready  hand. 

"  'Tain't  counterfeit,  I  reck'n?  " 

"No,  sirT'  said  Si,  with  some  asperity. 


114?  HE  GETS  THE  WORTH  OF  HIS  MONEY. 

"All  right,  that's  a  bargain.  Now  yell  see  some  reel  fun 
d'reckly." 

The  orderly  entered  the  crowd  and  pushed  to  the  front 
to  see  what  was  going  on.  He  was  just  as  ignorant  as  Si 
had  been  of  the  dark  ways  of  the  old  soldiers.  The  latter 
were  no  respecters  of  persons  who  did  not  wear  shoulder- 
straps,  and  the  bright  chevrons  of  a  ''green  "  first  sergeant 
afforded  the  wearer  no  protection. 

Watching  their  opportunity  they  tipped  over  the  orderly 
into  the  blanket,  and  in  an  instant  he  was  kicking  and 
clawing  as  he  bounded  and  rebounded  into  the  air. 

Si  lay  down  and  rolled  over  and  screamed  with  delight. 
No  financial  investment  he  ever  made  had  paid  him  such 
enormous  and  immediate  dividends  as  did  that  five  dollar 
bill.  When  he  got  back  to  camp  he  told  Shorty  about  it. 
Both  agreed  that  as  between  Si  and  the  orderly  the  account 
was  balanced. 

The  story  of  the  five  dollars  ^vas  too  good  to  keep.  The 
veteran  immediately  told  it  to  his  comrades,  and  the 
orderly  got  wind  of  it.  No  sooner  had  the  latter  returned 
to  his  company  than  he  learned  that  one  of  the  camp- 
guards  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill  and  it  was  necessary 
to  detail  a  man  to  fill  the  vacancy. 

'*Klegg  you'll  have  to  go  on  guard  right  off,  so  git  your 
traps  on  quick !''  he  said  as  he  stuck  his  head  into  the  tent 
where  vSi  and  Shorty  were  still  laughing  over  the  affair  of 
the  blanket. 

''How  d'ye  figger  it  bein'  my  turn,  ord'ly?"'  asked  Si  in 
surprise.  "When  ye  made  the  detail  fer  guard  to-day  ye 
only  jest  got  through  the  B  s.  K  didn't  come  next  after 
B  n  my  spellin'  book.  The^^  must  have  a  diff  runt  kind  o' 
alfybet  'n  the  army." 

"You  do  as  I  tell  ye,  an'  be  smart  about  it,  too,  or  111 
report  ye  to  the  cap'n,  an'  he  11  give  ye  'nother  dose.  Yell 
have  to  put  in  more  bricks  next  time  than  ye  did  to-day." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  ord'ly,"  said  Si,  springing  to  his 


THE  ORDERLY  SCORES  ANOTHER.  115 

^t  and  displaying  the  utmost  alacrity  in  getting  himself 
into  harness,  *'I  was  only  jokin'.  I'd  jest  's  lief  go  on 
guard  's  not.  Got  ter  begin  sometime.  I'll  be  ready  'n  a 
minute." 

"Si,"  said  Shorty,  after  the  orderly  had  gone,  ''d'ye 
spose  he  heerd  anything  'bout  yer  givin'  that  chap  fivedol' 
lars  to  bounce  'im?" 

Si  gave  along,  low  whistle.  **  I  wouldn't  ha'  thought  that 
feller  'd  go  back  on  me  that  way." 

** Looks  's  if  he  did"  said  Shorty,  '*I  shouldn't  wonder 
*f  that's  the  reason  why  the  ord  ly  jumped  from  B  to  K. 
I  guess  he's  a  leetle  ahead  arter  all." 

Si  really  had  little  objection  to  going  on  guard.  The 
weather  was  pleasant,  and  he  was  constantly  hungering 
and  thirsting  after  new  experiences.  In  fact  this  was  the 
first  time  he  had  been  called  upon  to  do  duty  in  any  mili- 
tary capacity,  and  it  was  with  sensations  of  pride  and 
satisfaction  that  he  shouldered  his  musket  and  marched 
to  the  headquarters  of  the  guard,  to  take  the  place  of  a 
man  who  had  been  doubled  up  by  the  colic.  At  last  he  was 
going  to  do  something  to  help  save  the  country.  He  could 
hardly  wait  till  his  ''trick"  began.  His  turn  would  not 
come  till  midnight,  but  he  dared  not  go  to  sleep  for  fear  they 
would  forget  to  wake  him. 

"Second  relief,  fall  in!"  shouted  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard. 

Si  was  prompt  to  respond,  and  a  moment  later  the 
squad  was  on  its  way  around  the  line,  each  guard,  as  he 
was  relieved,  falling  in  at  the  rear  of,the  squad. 

When  the  guards  were  detailed  early  in  the  day — ^for 
twenty-four  hours,  each  man  being  on  beat  two  hours  out 
of  six— they  had  been  instructed  as  to  their  duties,  and  an 
extract  from  the  articles  of  v^^ar  was  impressively  read  to 
them,  in  which  v^as  set  forth  the  fact  that  death  was  the 
awful  penalty  for  sleeping  on  post.  Si  had  heard  nothing 
of  this,  so  that  he  unfortunately  went  on  duty  with  onl^j 


116  SI  RECEIVES  THE   **  GRAND   ROUNDS." 

a  foggy  notion  that  walking  to  and  fro  on  his  beat  was. 
all  there  was  of  it.  He  got  an  idea  of  the  ceremony  of  re- 
lieving a  guard  from  seeing  it  a  few  times,  and  when  he. 
was  given  the  countersign  and  duly  posted,  with  his  bay- 
onet fixed  and  his  gun  at  a  right-shoulder-shift,  he  felt 
that  he  had  really  entered  upon  the  work  of  putting  down 
the  rebellion.  He  did  so  with  a  determination  that  so  far 
as  Si  Klegg  was  concerned  the  \var  should  be  vigorously 
prosecuted. 

Just  before  the  sergeant  left  him  to  meet  the  ''Who 
comes  there?  "  of  the  sentinel  oif  the  next  beat,  he  cautioned 
him  to  be  alert  and  vigilant,  as  the  "grand  rounds" 
v^ould  soon  visit  him.  Si  had  not  the  faintest  idea  what 
the  ''grand  rounds"  was.  He  first  thought  he  would 
ask  the  sergeant,  but  he  did  not  like  to  expose  his  igno- 
rance and  concluded  to  wait  and  learn.  Whatever  it  was,, 
he  felt  fully  competent  to  give  it  a  warm  reception. 

The  "grand  rounds"  was  usualh'  composed  of  an  offi- 
cer, a  sergeant,  and  two  privates.  Its  function  was  to 
take  a  trip  around  the  entire  line,  to  see  that  the  guards 
were  attentive  to  their  duties.  It  generally  started  soon, 
after  midnight.  Of  course  at  the  regular  time  all  the  sen- 
tinels were  watchful,  zealous  and  full  of  business.  Some- 
times the  ofiicer  took  an  insane  notion  to  make  his  ap- 
pearance at  unexpected  hours,  and  then  he  was  very  likely 
to  catch  some  of  the  boys  napping. 

Si  had  not  been  patrolling  his  beat  more  than  half  an 
hour  when  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  footsteps.  By  the. 
dim  starlight  he  saw  a  bod\^  of  men  approaching.  He 
correctly  surmised  that  the3^  must  be  the  "grand  rounds.'* 

"Hello,  there!"  he  shouted. 

He  was  too  much  flustered  to  recall  the  form  of  the 
challenge,  but  he  knew  he  had  to  say  something.  The 
squad  paid  no  attention  to  this  irregular  observation,  but 
kept  marching  toward  him. 

"Hold  on,"  said  Si,  "or  I'll  blow  a  hole  through  some 


HE  FAi^LS   ASLEEP. 


117 


on  ye!"  bringing  down   his  gun  with  his  thumb   on  the 
hammer. 

The  officer  thought  it  about  time  to  halt,  and  did  so. 
**Who  are  ye,  anyway,  'n'  what  d'ye  want?" 
Then  the  officer  gave  Si  a  lecture,  and  after  instructing 
him  in  the  forms  for  such  cases  made  and  provided  in  the 
army  regulations,  he  marched  the  squad  back  some  dis- 
tance and  once  more  advanced  upon  Si,  to  give  him  a  little 
practice.  He  got  through  it  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  offi- 
cer and  the  grand  rounds  went  on  its  way 

For  an  hour  Si 
i;valked  his  beat. 
The  time  seemed 
very  long  to  him; 
he  was  sure  that 
the  third  relief  had 
forgotten  to  come 
around.  He  began 
-to  feel  tired  and  at 
length  sat  down  be- 
side a  stump.  Then 
his  eyelids  grew 
heavy  and  before  he 
Icnew  it  they  had 
closed.  He  did  not 
mean  to  go  to  sleep, 
but  he  was  not  used 
"to  working  at  such  . 
unseasonable  hours,  si  forgets  himself. 

and  it  is  not  strange  that  drowsiness  overcame  him. 

When  the  relief  came  around  the  sergeant  found  Si  sleep- 
ing soundly.  The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  disengage  the 
musket  from  the  relaxed  grasp  of  the  slumberer.  Then 
giving  him  a  vigorous  shake  the  sergeant  exclaimed : 

*'Wake  up,  the  rebels  are  coming! ' 

Si  leaped  to  his  feet  in  an  instant  and  began  to  scratch 


118 


DEATH  STARES  HIM  IX  THE  FACE. 


around  for  his  gun,  while  the  rising  hair  almost  lifted  the 
hat  from  his  head. 

''Wh-wh-where's  my  g-g-gun?  Wh-what's  the  mat- 
ter?" he  said  in  trembling  tones,  as  his  knees  threatened 
to  give  way  under  him. 

''Young  man,"  said  the  sergeant  in  tones  that  pierced 
his  very  marrow,  'Tve  got  yer  musket.    I  took  it  from 

ye  while  yo:  was 
sound  asleep. 
That's  what's 
the  matter,  and 
it'll  be  a  serious 
matter  for  ye, 
too!  Don't  you. 
know,  sir,  that 
the  penalty  for 
sleeping  on  post 
is  death  ? ' ' 

''Wh-a-a-a-t!" 
said  Si,  and  his 
limbs  began  to 
shake  as  he 
stared  at  the 
sergeant  in. 
blank  amaze-^ 
ment.  ''Ye  m- 
m-must  be  j-j— 
jokin',  ain't 
ye?" 

"No,  sir,  I  am  not,  what  I  told  ye  is  true  as  gospeL 
Didn't  ye  hear  it  read  from  the  articles  o'  war  when  ye- 
went  on  guard  to-day?  It  is  my  duty  to  report  ye  to  the 
colonel  for  sleeping  on  post,  and  I  suppose  ye'U  have  to  be 
shot.    It's  tough,  but  ye  shouldn't  have  gone  to  sleep.'' 

Poor  Si  was  overwhelmed  as  thoughts  of  the  awful  con- 
sequences of  his  unwitting  lapse  from  duty  rushed  over 


A  RUDE  AWAKENING. 


GOOD  RESOLUTIONS.  119 

liim.  He  sank  to  the  ground  in  an  agony  of  wretchedness. 
As  soon  as  he  could  recover  his  speech  he  told  the  sergeant 
in  appealing  tones  that  he  was  detailed  thalf  night  to  take 
the  place  of  a  man  who  was  sick,  and  protested  that  he 
had  heard  nothing  of  what  was  read  to  the  guards,  and 
did  not  even  know  that  there  were  such  things  as  ''Articles 
of  War."  His  gUn  and  cartridge-box  and  knapsack  were 
the  onU^  ''articles  "  he  knew  anything  about. 

This  gave  a  different  aspect  to  the  affair,  mitigating,  in 
some  degree  at  least,  the  enormity  of  his  offense.  The 
sergeant's  voice  softened  as  he  handed  Si  his  gun  and 
told  him  that  he  would  report  the  explanation  to  the  offi- 
cer of  the  guard,  and  if  what  he  had  said  was  true,  he 
hoped  and  believed  that  the  punishment  would  not  be  in- 
flicted. 

Si  fell  in  behind  the  relief  and  marched  around  to  the 
headquarters  of  the  guard,  in  a  state  of  mind  bordering  on 
distraction.  The  officer,  satisfying  himself  of  the  truth  of 
his  statements,  told  him  that  the  matter  should  go  no 
further ;  but  in  earnest  words  he  impressed  upon  him  the 
turpitude  of  such  a  violation  of  military  law. 

*'I'm  ever  so  much  'bleeged  to  ye,"  said  Si,  "I  didn't 
mean  ter  do  nothin'  wrong.  I  shan't  forgit  what  I've 
lamed  to-night  ef  I  stay  'n  the  sarvice  a  thousan'  years. 
Ef  anybody  ever  ketches  me  asleep  agin  when  I  ought  ter 
be  awake,  he  may  shoot  me  's  full  o'  holes  's  a  pepper- 
box." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

In  Which  Si  Takes  His  First  Lesson  ix  the  Manual  of  Arms  an© 
Company  Drill. 

IT  was  with  genuine  satisfaction  thatSiKlegg  heard  the 
order  of  the  captain  one  evening  at  roll-call,  for  Com- 
pany Q  to  begin  the  work  of  drilling  the  following  day.  It 
must  be  confessed  that  Si's  conceptions  of  the  "school  of 
the  soldier"  and  the  various  company  and  battalion  evo- 
lutions were  at  this  time  exceedingly  vague.  He  knew 
that  a  "drill "  was  something  to  make  holes  with,  and  as 
he  understood  that  he  had  been  sent  down  South  to  make 
holes  through  people,  he  supposed  drilling  had  something 
to  do  with  it.  He  handled  his  musket  very  much  as  he 
would  a  hoe.  A  "platoon"  might  be  something  to  eat, 
for  all  he  knew.  He  had  a  notion  that  a  "wheel"  was 
something  that  went  around ;  and  the  only  "file  "he  knew 
anything  about  was  a  screeching  thing  that  his  father 
used  once  a  year  to  sharpen  up  the  buck-saw. 

But  Si's  ignorance  was  no  indication  that  he  would  not 
make  a  good  soldier.  His  mind  was  in  a  plastic  state, 
ready  to  receive  impressions  of  duty.  He  was  more  than 
willing  to  learn — his  heart  was  burning  with  a  desire  to 
know  all  about  the  mysterious  things  of  which  he  had 
heard  so  much,  that  he  might  speedily  attain  to  the  fullest 
measure  of  usefulness  in  his  humble  sphere  of  martial  life. 

"I  s'pose  I  kin  do  jest's  good  fightin'  'thout  havin'  all 
the  tic-tacs  'n  my  head,"  he  said  to  Shorty.  "I've  bin 
used  ter  handlin'  a  gun  ever  sence  I  was  knee  high  to  ^ 

120 


DRILLING  AT  *'PEEP   o'   DAY.'*  121 

grasshopper,  'n'  I  b'lieve  I  kin  load  'n'  shoot  's  fast  's  the 
next  im.  I  don't  reck'n  drillin'  makes  a  feller  have  any 
more  sand,  nuther,  but  its  reggelations,  'n'  the  ord'ly'U 
alius  find  me  on  hand.  I  hope  they  won't  fool  away  too 
much  time  drillin'  us  t'll  the  rest  on  em  gits  the  rebils 
licked,  'n'  we  don't  have  no  chance  fer  some  o'  the  fun." 

Then  Shorty  gave  his  buoyant  comrade  some  idea  of  the 
value  of  drill  and  discipline  to  a  soldier.  Si  assured  him 
that  he  would  be  a  diligent  pupil,  and  expressed  the  ut- 
most confidence  that  he  would  make  rapid  and  satisfac- 
tory progress. 

The  situation  was  critical,  and  all  signs  pointed  to  active 
operations  in  the  very  near  future.  It  might  be  a  week,  it 
might  not  be  an  hour;  bvit  a  general  order  had  been  promul- 
gated for  the  army  to  hold  itself  in  perfect  readiness  for  an 
arduous  campaign  against  the  enemy,  who  v^as  known  to 
be  at  hand  in  large  force.  The  colonel  of  the  200th  Indiana, 
who  had  seen  a  year's  service  in  one  of  the  earlier  regiments, 
w^as  solicitous  for  the  highest  possible  efficiency  of  his  raw 
command,  and  directed  that  every  moment  should  be  im- 
proved. The  time  was  too  short  for  thorough,  detailed 
instruction  and  practice  in  all  the  intricacies  of  the  science 
of  war;  this  must  be  postponed  to  a  more  convenient  sea- 
son. His  men  were  liable  to  be  called  into  action,  and  he 
determined  that  they  should  be  first  given  a  few  of  the 
simple  and  necessary  lessons  in  the  school  of  the  soldier, 
the  company  and  the  battalion. 

The  work  was  to  begin  with  the  lark.  Reveille  was 
ordered  at  daybreak,  and  there  was  to  be  an  hour  of 
''squad  drill" — for  instruction  in  the  manual  of  arms — 
while  the  company  cooks  were  getting  breakfast.  This 
v^ould  give  the  men  a  good  appetite,  and  assist  in  recon- 
<:iling  their  stomachs  to  army  diet ;  for  the  hungrier  a  man 
is  the  less  part:cu:ar  he  is  about  his  food.  So  the  colonel 
thought  the  arrangement  an  admirable  one,  as  it  would 
serve  a  double  purpose.    Some  of  the  boys  thought  it  was 


122 

rather  crowding  matters,  but  the  great  emergenc}^  at  hand 
was  pretty  well  understood,  and  the  general  verdict  was 
one  of  approval. 

The  men  turned  in  early.  Two  or  three  days  and  night* 
of  excitement,  with  little  sleep  or  rest,  had  severely  taxed 
their  as  yet  undeveloped  powers  of  endurance,  and  they 
were  glad  enough  to  stretch  their  limbs  upon  a  blanket  on 
the  unyielding  ground. 

They  sprang  up  at  the  first  tap  of  the  drum,  buckled  on 
their  accouterments,  seized  their  muskets,  and  took  their 
places  in  line.  The  company  was  told  off  in  squads  of  six 
or  eight  men  each.  Most  of  the  line  officers  of  the  200tli 
-were  wholly  inexperienced.  In  order  that  the  seed  sown 
among  those  patriotic  Hoosiers  might  be  of  the  best,  and 
yield  an  immediate  harvest,  a  number  of  sergeants  from 
the  old  regiments  had  been  detailed  to  teach  the  men  how 
to  handle  their  arms.  These  non-commissioned  officers 
considered  themselves  veterans,  and  knew — or  thought 
thc}^  did — all  about  w^ar  that  w^as  worth  knowing.  The 
one  who  took  Si's  squad  was  a  grizzled  sergeant,  who  had 
been  ^'lugging  knapsack,  box  and  gun"  for  a  year.  He 
fully  realized  his  important  and  responsible  functions  as 
instructor  of  these  innocent  youths,  having  at  the  same 
time  a  supreme  contempt  for  their  ignorance. 

"Attention,  squad  !"  andthe3^all  looked  at  him  in  awa3r 
that  indicated  a  thirst  for  knowledge. 

"  Load  in  nine  times — Load  ! " 

Si  couldn't  quite  understand  what  the  "in"  meant,  but 
he  had  alwa3'S  been  handy  with  a  shotgun,  to  the  terror 
of  the  squirrels  and  coons  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
father's  farm,  and  he  thought  he  would  show  the  sergeant 
how  spry  he  was.  So  he  rammed  in  a  cartridge,  put  on  a 
cap,  held  up  his  musket  and  blazed  away,  and  then  went 
to  loading  again  as  if  his  life  depended  upon  his  activity. 
For  an  instant  the  sergeant  was  speechless  with  amaze* 
ment.    At  length  his  tongue  was  loosed  and  he  roared  out ; 


LOADING   "NINE  TIMES. 


12a 


"What  in  the  name  of  General  Jackson  are  ye  doing,  ye 
measly  idiot !    Who  ordered  ye  to  load  and  fire  yer piece?" 

"I — I — th— thought  you  did!"  said  Si,  trembling  as  if  he 
had  the  Wabash  ague.  "You  said  ferusto  load  nine  times. 
I  thought  nine  loads  would  fill  'er  chuck  full  and  bust  'er, 
and  I  didn't  see  any  way  but  to  shute  'em  off  as  fast  as  I 
got'  em  in." 

"No,  sir!  I  gave  the  command  according  to  Hardee,* 
*Load — in  —  nine  — times!'  and  ef  yer  hadn't  bin  in  sich 
a  hurry  you'd  'a' 
found  out  what 
that  means.  Yer '11 
git  along  a  good 
deal  faster  ef  yer  11 
go  s  1  o  w^  e  r .  Ye 
ought  ter  be  made 
ter  carry  a  rail, 
and  a  big  one,  for 
two  hours." 

Si  protested  that 
he  was  sorry  and 
didn't  mean  to  and 
wouldn't  do  so 
again,  and  the  drill 
went  on .  The  mas-  ^ 
ter  went  through  "load  in  nine  times— load!" 

all  the  nine  ''times"  of  ''Handle— Cartridge!"  "Draw- 
Rammer!"  etc.,  each  with  its  two  or  three  "motions.'' 
[t  seemed  like  nonsense  to  Si. 


*  The  authorized  text-book  for  infantry  at  the  time  the  war  broke  out^ 
and  for  two  or  three  years  thereafter,  was  "Hardee's  Tactics."  The 
author,  W.  J.  Hardee,  was  an  officer  of  the  United  States  Army  before  the 
Rebellion,  but  espoused  the  Confederate  cause  and  was  a  distinguished 
corps  commander  under  Bragg,  Johnston  and  Hood.  Toward  the  close 
of  the  war  tw^o  revised  "Tactics  " — by  General  Silas  Casey  and  General 
»Emory  Upton,  respectively — were  published,  and  were  used  by  some  of 
fcke  late  regiments.    The  "  old  soldiers"  knew  only  "  Hardee." 


124 


THE  FIRST  CASUALTY. 


''Boss,"  said  lie,  ''I  kin  git'er  loaded  in  jest  half  the  timt 
*€f  yer'll  let  me  do  it  my  own  waj  !" 

"Silence!"  thundered  the  sergeant.  "If  ^^ou  speak  an- 
other word  I  "11  have  ye  gagged  n'  tied  up  by  the  thumbs !" 
Si  had  always  been  used  to  speaking  out  when  he  had 
anything  to  say,  and  had  not  yet  got  his  "unruly  member'' 
tinder  complete  subjection.  He  saw%  however,  that  the 
drill  sergeant  w^as  a  sort  of  military  buzz-saw  that  it  was 

not  safe  to  fool 
with,  and  he  held 
his  peace.  But  he 
kept  thinking  that 
if  he  got  into  a 
fight  he  would  ram 
in  the  cartridges 
and  fire  them  out 
as  fast  as  he  could, 
without  bothering 
^^his  head  with  the 
"one  time  and  three 
''motions.'' 
%llj'  ' '  Order — Arms ! ' ' 
commanded  the 
sergeant,  after  he 
had  explained  how 
it  was  done.  Si 
brought  his  gun 
OUCH!  '  down    along   with 

the  rest  like  a  pile-driver.  The  pencil  of  the  artist  conveys 
a  better  idea  of  the  immediate  effect  than  can  be  expressed 
in  words. 

"  Ou-ou-ouch !"  remarked  the  victim  of  Si's  inexperience. 
"Didn't  do  it  a-purpose,  pard,"  said  Si  compassionately; 
^*  pon  my  w-ord  I  didn't.    I'll  be  more  keerful  arter  this." 

His  suffering  comrade,  in  very  pointed  language,  urged 
<upon  Si  the  propriety  of  exercising  a  little  more  care.    P-* 


SI  WAS  LEFT-HANDED. 


125 


determined  that  he  would  manage  to  get  some  other  fellow 
to  stand  next  to  Si  after  that. 

** Shoulder — Arms!"  ordered  the  sergeant,  and  the  guns 
came    straggling   up    into    position.     Then,  after    a   few- 


Right  shoulder  shift — Arms." 
your   right    shoulder?"   said   the 


w^ords  of  instruction, 
"Don't  you  know 
sergeant,  with  a 
good  deal  of  vine- 
gar in  his  tone, 
to  Si,  who  had 
his  gun  on  the 
"  larboard  "  side, 
as  a  sailor  would 
say. 

"Beg  yer  pard- 
ing,"  said  Si;  "I 
alius  was  left- 
handed.  I'll  learn 
if  yer  only  gimme 
a  show!" 

"  Silence !"  again 
roared  the  ser- 
geant. "One  more 
word,  sir,  and  I 
will  tie  ye  up,  fer 
afadl!" 

The  sergeant  got 
his  squad  down  to 
an  "order  arms" 
again,  and  then, 
after  showing  them  how,  he  gave  the  command,  "Fix— ^ 
Bayonet ! ' ' 

There  was  the  usual  clicking  and  clattering,  during 
which  Si  dexterously  managed  to  stick  his  bayonet  into 
the  eye  of  his  comrade,  whose  toes  were  still  aching  from 
the  blow  of  the  butt  of  his  musket.    Si  assured  him  he  was 


RIGHT  SHOULDER   SHIFT— ARMS  ' 


126 


SI  JOINS  THE  "awkward  SQUAD. 


sorry,  and  that  it  was  all  a  mistake,  but  his  comrade 
thought  the  limit  of  patience  had  been  passed.  He  confi- 
dentially informed  Si  that  as  soon  as  drill  was  over  he 
was  going  to  ''pound  the  stufBn' "  out  of  him,  and  there 
wouldn't  be  any  mistake  about  it,  either. 

When  the  hour  was  up  the  captain  of  the  company  came 
Around  to  see  how  the  boys  were  getting  along.  The  up- 
shot of  it  was  that  Si  and  a  few  other  unfortunates  were 

organized  into  an 
"awkward  squad,  '* 
and  sentenced  to 
an  extra  hour  of 
drill. 

''We'll  see,  Mr. 
Klegg,'*  said  the 
captain,  "  if  you 
can't  learn  to 
handle  your  arms 
without  mashing 
the  toes  and  stab- 
bing the  eyes  out 
of  the  rest  of  the 
company." 

The  first  thing 
on  the  program 
after  breakfast  was 
company  drill.  The 
captain  thought 
the  smattering  he 
had  of  Hardee  was  enough  to  justify  him  in  undertaking 
the  job.  As  Company  Q  marched  out  to  the  drill-ground 
and  began  operations  the  veteran  soldiers  from  the  adja- 
cent camps  gathered  to  enjo^^  the  sport,  forming  a  ragged 
border  around  the  field.  As  occasion  was  offered  they 
stimulated  the  "freshmen '' by  exasperating  comments 
and  suggestions.     The  captain  acquitted  himself  a»  well 


'fix— bayonet! 


COMPANY  DRILL. 


127 


as  could  have  been  expected,  but  it  was  very  much  hke  the 
blind  leading  the  blind,  and  now  and  then  they  ''both  fell 
into  the  ditch."  Si  Klegg  had  been  so  awkward  in  the 
first  drill  that  he  was  ordered  to  take  his  place  at  the  tail 
of  the  company. 

The  captain  first  exercised  the  company  in  the  simple 
facings,  without  ''doubling."  He  deemed  it  essential  that 
they  should  be  able  to  get  their  toes  turned  the  right  way. 

Si  was  one  of  those 
who  required  line  up- 
on line  and  precept 
upon  precept.  There 
were  some  who  "took 
to  it"  naturally,  and 
easily  learned  the 
multifarious  m  o  v  e- 
ments.  Others,  just 
as  brave  and  pa- 
triotic and  faithful, 
tried  diligently  for 
three  or  four  years, 
and  then  failed  to 
master  them.  The 
true  military  instinct 
is  much  like  the  gifts 
of  the  poet  and  the 
artist,  "born,  not 
made." 

' '  Left — Face ! ' '  shouted  the  captain. 

Si  was  zealous  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  and  when 
he  really  learned  anything  he  tried  hard  that  it  should  not 
get  away  from  him,  and  generally  succeeded.  As  yet,  how- 
ever, he  was  as  likely  to  face  one  \vay  as  the  other.  He 
knew  that  the  sonorous  words  of  the  captain  required 
him  to  do  something.  When  he  had  done  it  he  found  him- 
self looking  squarely  into  the  eyes  of  the  man  who  had 


'LEFT— FACE 


128 


SI  GETS  KINKED. 


stood  next  to  him.  Observing  his  mistake  he  quickly 
turned  himself  around,  stepping  heavily  on  the  toes  of  his 
comrade.  He  was  just  in  time  to  escape  a  reproof  from 
the  captain,  who  ran  his  eye  down  the  line  to  see  how  well 
the  order  had  been  executed.  Si  was  in  good  shape  when 
the  official  glance  reached  him,  and  the  captain  nodded 
approvingly. 

''Front!" 
This  was  not 
difficult,  as  every* 
body  knew  it 
meant  to  face  to- 
ward the  captain. 
''Right— Face!'' 
Si  promptly 
faced  to  the  left. 
Being  at  the  end 
of  the  line,  with 
no  one  now  in 
front  of  him,  he 
did  not  detect  his 
error.  He  did  not 
know^that  he  was 
standing  back  to 
back  with  the 
next  man.  Com- 
pany Q  was  as 
large  then  as  the 
"right— face!"  whole   regiment 

"present  for  duty"  was  two  years  later,  and  the  captain, 
who  had  gone  to  the  head  of  the  long  line  to  direct  a 
movement  by  the  flank,  did  not  notice  that  Si  was  out  of 
position. 

"Right  shoulder  shift— Arms !" 

The  lesson  of  the  early  morning  had  not  proved  alto- 
gether unfruitful,  and  the  men,  in  the  course  of  two  of 


COMPANY  Q  TRIES  THE  DOUBLE-QUICK.  129 

three  minutes,  got  their  muskets  into  position  satisfac- 
torily. When  Si  first  came  into  possession  of  his  gun  he 
wanted  to  carry  it  in  his  left  hand,  but  he  soon  found  that 
this  would  not  do  at  all.  By  carrjang  it  with  the  other, 
as  the  rest  did,  he  was  enabled  to  identify  his  right  shoulder 
with  fair  success. 

*'  Forward — March !" 

The  company  started  off;  but  the  captain  was  not  a 
little  surprised,  on  looking  back,  to  see  Si  trudging  away 
in  the  opposite  direction.  The  captain  asked  him  with 
great  vehemence  where  he  was  going.  This  caused  him  to 
look  around,  and  he  scampered  back  to  overtake  the  col- 
umn, while  the  old  soldiers  who  stood  or  layabout  watch- 
ing the  proceedings,  yelled  with  delight. 

The  captain  marched  the  company  around  awhile  so 
that  the  men  might  ''get  the  hang "  of  keeping  step  to  the 
tap  of  the  drum  and  the  "Hep !  "  ''Hep !  "  of  the  orderly. 
At  intervals  he  ventured  "  By  file  left "  or  right,  to  change 
the  course  of  the  column.  Si  was  glad  he  did  so,  for  if 
they  kept  right  on  in  one  direction  they  would  soon  be 
among  the  veterans.  This  was  easy,  as  the  captain  only 
needed  to  steer  the  orderly,  and  the  men  had  nothing  to  do 
but  follow. 

Then  he  thought  he  would  try  the  "double-quick."  He 
knew  that  when  Company  Q  got  near  where  any  fighting 
was  going  on,  the  anxiety  of  the  men  to  get  in  would  urge 
them  to  a  rapid  gait.  Perhaps  at  a  later  period  they 
would  be  satisfied  with  "common  time"  when  moving 
into  the  vortex  of  battle,  but  now  nothing  short  of  a 
double-quick  would  meet  the  demands  of  their  quenchless 
ardor. 

After  a  few  words  of  rather  uncertain  instruction,  the 
necessary  command  was  given  and  aw^ay  went  the  men 
at  a  gallop.  There  was  no  thought  of  "keeping  the  step," 
and  the  company  formation  dissolved  into  a  wildly  rush- 
ing mass,  having  no  more  semblance  of  order  than  a  stam- 


130  "about  face!" 

peded  flock  of  sheep.  Si  Klegg  was  not  built  for  speed, 
and  he  brought  up  the  rear,  pufEng  and  blowing  with 
great  energy.  Repeated  shouts  from  the  captain  at  length 
brought  the  company  to  a  halt.  The  officers  and  sergeants 
had  all  they  could  do  for  the  next  ten  minutes  in  getting 
the  men  straightened  out  and  once  more  in  their  places. 
From  a  tactical  point  of  view,  the  experiment  was  not  a 
success,  but  it  clearly  demonstrated  the  ability  of  the  com- 
pany to  make  time  when  necessary. 

"About— Face!" 

This  was  the  next  command  given,  after  the  captain  had 
told  the  men  how  to  do  it.  This  change  of  position  was 
executed  by  properly  adjusting  the  feet  and  then  quickly 
swinging  the  body  to  the  right  half  way  around,  leaving 
the  soldier  faced  in  the  opposite  direction.  It  was  very 
easy — after  it  had  been  learned. 

The  first  attempt  to  obey  the  command  convulsed  Com- 
pany Q  like  an  earthquake.  Some  wriggled  around  one 
way  and  some  the  other.  Here  and  there  one  gave  him- 
self too  much  whirling  motion  and  went  spinning  around 
too  far  before  he  could  stop,  or  lost  his  balance  and  went 
down  among  the  squirming  legs  of  his  comrades.  Men 
bumped  against  one  another  and  muskets  and  heads  came 
in  collision.  When  the  company  tried  the  "Right  about," 
— ^the  same  movement  as  the  above,  except  that  it  is  exe- 
cuted while  marching  at  common  or  double-quick  time, 
without  losing  the  step — the  consequences  were  even  more 
disastrous. 

"Right-Wheel!" 

It  was  here  that  the  real  trouble  came  in.  No  infantry 
movement  is  more  difficult  than  the  wheel.  None  is  more 
graceful  when  executed  with  precision,  nor  more  ungrace- 
ful when  badly  done.  A  perfect  wheel,  preserving  the  align- 
ment, can  only  be  accomplished  after  long  practice. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the  first  trial  was  a 
sad  failure.     The  line  bulged  out  in  the  centre,  and  the 


LEARNING  THE   "WHEEL. 


131 


outer  flank,  unable  to  keep  up,  fell  behind,  the  company 
assuming  nearly  the  shape  of  a  big  letter  C.  Then  the  boys 
on  the  outer  end  took  the  double-quick,  cutting  across  the 
arc  of  the  proper  circle,  which  soon  resulted  in  a  hopeless 
wreck  of  the  whole  company.  The  captain  halted  the 
chaotic  jungle  of  struggling  men,  and  with  the  help  of 
the  orderly  finally  succeeded  in  getting  them  untangled 
and  into  line  again.  The  men  had  often  seen  practiced 
soldiers  going  through  this  movement,  and  it  seemed 
easy  enough;  they 
did  not  see  why  they 
could  not  do  it  just 
as  well  as  the  other 
fellows. 

The  second  time 
the  company  tried 
it  those  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  line  went 
to  the  other  extreme 
and  did  not  step  out 
fast  enough,  and  the 
moving  flank  forged 
ahead,  taking  the 
short  cut  and  com- 
ing in  on  the  home- 
stretch with  a  wild 
rush  that  threw  the 
ranks  into  a  confusion  worse  confounded  than  before. 

By  this  time  the  men  were  getting  badly  winded,  and 
the  captain  was  hoarse  from  yelling  at  them.  All  hands 
were  glad  to  hear  the  recall  sounded,  that  gave  them  an 
hour  of  rest.  The  day  was  warm  and  much  of  their  cloth- 
ing was  soaked  with  perspiration. 

Si  hurried  to  his  tent  when  the  company  was  dismissed, 
threw  off"  his  traps,  and  stretched  himself  on  his  bunk. 

''It's  all  fer  yer  country,  Si,"  said  Shorty. 


COMPANY— RIGHT   WHEEL 


132  THE  COMPANY  GOES  ON  PICKET. 

''That's  all  right,"  replied  Si,  "but  ef  there's  anj-  fun  'n 
drillin'  I  can't  see  much  on  it  3^et.     I'd  aheapruther  fight !  " 

Shorty  smiled. 

That  evening  Compan^^  Q  was  ordered  on  picket.  As 
soon  as  the  men  were  in  line  ready  to  start,  the  colonel  ad- 
dressed them  solemnly  on  the  importance  of  the  duty  as- 
signed them.  He  was  ardently  desirous  that  they  should 
acquit  themselves  with  credit  in  case  an  emergency  should 
arise.  The  men  were  profoundly  impressed,  and  marched 
to  the  line  of  outposts  feeling  that  the  whole  burden  of 
the  war  rested  upon  their  shoulders. 

The  company  relieved  part  of  an  old  regiment  which  had 
been  on  duty  for  twenty-four  hours.  These  veterans  had 
watched  upon  the  outposts  of  the  army  many  a  day  and 
night,  in  field  and  brake  and  wood,  through  heat  and  cold 
and  storm.  They  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  men  who  were 
to  take  their  places  for  the  night  were  innocent  lambs  who 
had  never  seen  a  picket-line  before.  In  low,  hoarse  whis- 
pers they  told  blood-curdling  stories  of  the  awful  danger 
that  surrounded  them.  The  trembling  Hoosiers  stood 
with  staring  eyes  and  mouths  agape,  cold  sweat  starting 
from  their  bodies,  as  they  listened  with  breathless  eager- 
ness to  the  astounding  recital. 

''Why,  3'Oung  feller,"  said  one  of  them,  talking  into  the 
ready  ear  of  Si  Klegg,  as  if  he  were  pouring  w^ater  into  a 
funnel,  "there's  more  'n  fifty  brigades  o'  rebels  right  over 
thar  in  them  woods.  They've  been  shootin'  bushels  o' 
bullets  at  us  all  day.  Jest  look  a-here  an'  see  how  my 
clothes  is  riddled." 

His  garments  were  ragged  and  torn  by  long  usage.  It 
was  getting  dark  and  Si  could  not  see  distinctly,  but  he 
took  it  for  granted  that  all  the  rents  and  holes  were  made 
by  the  bullets.  True,  Si  had  not  heard  any  firing  that  day, 
nor  had  there  been  any  commotion  in  camp  such  as  would 
inevitably  have  resulted.  But  he  did  not  think  of  this; 
the  veteran  knew  he  wouldn't.    Si  did  not  see  any  dead  or 


"stuffing"  the  greenhorns.  13!^ 

wounded  lying  around,  but  he  supposed  they  had  all  been 
sent  back  to  the  rear. 

''N-n-narrer  'scape  fer  ye,  w-w-wa'n't  it  ?  "  said  Si,  vainly 
striving  to  quiet  the  chattering  of  his  teeth. 

''Betyer  life  'twas,"  replied  the  maHgnant  old  soldier. 
*'  You  take  my  advice  an' jest  lay  low.  Ye  don't  want  ter  talk 
ner  make  no  noise,  fer  they'll  hear  ye.  I  had  ter  sneeze 
once  to-da\%  'cause  I  couldn't  help  it,  an'  the  bullets  come 
spatterin'  'round  me  like  hail-stuns  on  a  tin  roof.  All 
them  trees  is  full  o'  sharp-shooters ;  there's  two  or  three 
of  'em  sittin'  on  every  limb.  They've  got  rifles  that'll 
carry  furder  'n  ^^ou  ever  hearn  tell  of.  Them  fellers  kin 
shute,  I  tell  ye ;  they  kin  hit  a  fly  a  mile  off  four  times  out 
o'five." 

Si  was  now  fully  prepared  for  his  duty.  There  was  no 
danger  that  he  would  go  to  sleep.  He  moved  about  with 
the  greatest  caution  lest  his  foot  should  snap  a  twig  and 
those  fifty  brigades  of  rebels  should  concentrate  their  fire 
upon  him.  He  did  not  talk  unless  it  was  necessary,  and 
v^hen  he  had  to  say  something  he  spoke  only  in  a  whisper. 
The  veterans  formed  their  companies  and  tramped  off 
toward  camp  in  a  very  unconcerned  way.  Si  wondered 
that  they  were  not  all  shot  down  in  their  tracks. 

*' What  was  that  chap  givin'  ye,  'twas  talkin'  to  ye  like 
a  Dutch  uncle  ?  "  Shorty  asked  Si  after  they  had  gone. 

"  Sh-sh-sh !  "— and  Si  held  up  his  hand  imploringly — 
"Don't  talk  so  loud,  Shorty,  er  we'll  all  be  dead  men" — 
and  he  repeated  to  his  comrade  the  important  information 
that  the  veteran  had  imparted  to  him. 

''Dead  fiddlesticks!  "  said  Shorty,  ''Cap.  says  ther  ain't 
a  rebel  within  five  miles  o'  here." 

"Beats  all  how  them  oldsoljers  kin  lie,  don't  it  Shorty?  " 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Two  Hundeedth  Indiana  gets  Marching  Orders,  and  Si  Packs 

HIS  Knapsack. 


R 


■r-r-r-r-r-rap-r-r-r-r-rap-r-rap-r-r-r-r-rap-rap-r-r- 
r-rap-rap-rap ! 

It  was  the  long  roll,  sounding  for  the  first  time  through 
the  camp  of  the  200th  Indiana.  It  is  not  necessary  to  re- 
mind an  old  soldier  what  the  '4ong  roll"  was.  For  the 
information  of  those  whose  ears  have  never  been  startled 
by  its  wild  alarm,  it  may  be  said,  to  use  the  phrase  of  the 
day,  it  ''meant  business."  It  betokened  a  sudden  emer- 
gency that  required  immediate  action.  Whenever  a  soldier 
heard  it,  at  any  hour  of  the  da^^  or  night,  it  was  his  duty, 
without  waiting  for  orders,  to  spring  for  his  "traps,"  har- 
ness himself  up,  sieze  his  musket  and  get  into  line — and  to 
do  it  with  all  possible  haste.  After  he  heard  the  long  roll 
once  he  never  forgot  it. 

''Taps"  had  sounded,  the  camp-fires  burned  low,  and 
the  thousand  patriotic  Hoosiers  had  "turned  in."  Si  and 
Shorty  had  just  lost  themselves  in  "the  first  sweet  sleep 
of  night,"  when  the  sharp  rattle  of  the  drum  at  regimental 
headquarters  broke  upon  the  stillness.  Both  were  awake 
in  an  instant. 

"Wonder  what  that's  fer !  "  said  Si. 

*' That's  the  long  roll,"  replied  Shorty,  who  had  already 
kicked  off  the  blankets  and  was  putting  on  his  blouse. 

"  Ye're  actin'  like  ye'd  lost  yerwits,  Shorty.    What's  up, 

Anywav?" 

134 


THE  NIGHT  ALARM. 


135 


"I  d'know  what's  the  matter,"  said  Si's  comrade,  ''but 
ye  don't  want  ter  wait  ter  ax  no  questions.  Git  yerself 
hitched  up,  'n'  ye'd  better  hustle,  too.  Whenever  ye  hear 
that  kind  o'  racket  \^e  don't  want  to  fool  away  no  time 
monke^dn'  'round." 

'Without  knowing  w^hy,  except  that  Shorty  had  told  him 
to,  Si  began  to  scratch  around  for  his  things.  Then  came 
the  shout  of  the  orderly:  "Turn  out,  men,  promptly!  Fall 
in,  fall  in!  Be  lively!" 


THE  LONG-ROLL. 


Officers  came  tearing  out  of  their  tents,  buckling  on  their 
swords  as  they  ran.  Orderly  sergeants  rushed  through 
the  company  streets  stirring  up  the  men.  The  whole  regi- 
ment was  thrown  into  a  panicky  condition.  If  a  volley 
of  musketry  had  burst  upon  the  camp,  it  could  scarcely 
have  produced  greater  commotion  and  alarm. 

''Is  ther  g-g-goin'  ter  be  a  f-fight.  Shorty?  "  said  Si,  as 
they,  among  the  first  to  be  read\',  took  their  places,  wilh 


136  THE  AIR  WAS  CHILLY. 

their  muskets  at  a  "shoulder."  Si's  hands  trembled,  and 
his  knees  seemed  to  be  a  little  shaky.  It  was  probably 
nothing  but  the  chill  of  th^  cool  night  air.  "Hadn't  we 
better — load  our — g-guns  ?  "  he  continued. 

"Naw,"  replied  Shorty,  "  waitt'll  ye  git  orders.  I  don't 
see  no  thin'  't  looks  like  a  fight,  nuther.  Hold  on  a  bit  'ii' 
we'll  see  what  it's  all  'bout." 

Si  was  reassured  by  the  coolness  of  Shorty,  and  by  the 
fact  that  there  was  no  sound  within  ear-shot  that  indi- 
cated immediate  trouble. 

In  their  excitement  many  of  the  men  came  out  half 
dressed,  dragging  their  muskets  by  the  "slings,"  their 
waist-belts  and  cartridge-boxes  trailing  behind,  completing 
their  hasty  toilets  after  getting  into  line.  Some  had  their 
blouses  on  inside  out,  and  others  had  their  belts  buckled 
upside  down.  A  good  man^^  of  them  ^vere  affected  by  the 
night  air  in  the  same  manner  that  Si  was. 

"Orderly,  call  the  roll !  "  said  the  captain. 

"  Reck'n  they  wouldn't  stop  ter  call  the  roll  'f  thar  was 
anything  ser'us  on  hand,"  said  Shorty  to  Si  in  an  under- 
tone. 

Si  thought  this  a  sensible  view  of  the  case.  By  the  time 
his  name  was  reached  the  chill  had  entireh^  passed  away, 
and  when  the  orderly  called  out  "Klegg!"  he  responded 
"Here!  "  in  a  loud,  clear  voice. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  there  was  no  occasion  for  creating 
such  a  riot  in  the  camp  of  the  200th  Indiana.  The  colonel 
had  received  marching  orders,  and  he  thought  he  would 
try  the  longrollon  the  boys  just  to  see  how  it  would  strike 
them.  It  was  a  way  the  officers  had  of  gently  "breaking 
in  "  the  new  troops. 

After  Company  Q  had  been  duly  formed,  with  "all  pres- 
ent or  accounted  for,"  the  captain  announced  that  the 
regiment  would  march  at  daylight.  Each  man  was  to 
have  three  days'  rations  in  his  haversack,  and  sixty  rounds 
of  ammunition.    Tents  would  be  left  behind,  and  onl3^  one 


SI  DOES  NOT  NEED   QUININE.  137 

baggage-wagon  to  the  regiment  would  be  allowed.  Re- 
veille would  sound  at  three  o'clock. 

The  necessary  instructions  having  been  given,  the  com- 
panies were  dismissed.  Few  of  the  soldiers  returned  to 
their  beds.  In  the  excitement  of  the  hour  there  was  no 
thought  of  sleep.  They  piled  wood  on  the  smouldering  fires 
and  gathered  in  groups  around  them  to  talk  it  over. 
Everybody  asked  everybody  else  where  they  were  going 
and  what  they  would  do  when  they  got  there ;  but  as  all 
were  in  the  same  state  of  dense  ignorance  no  light  was 
thrown  on  the  subject.  The  company  officers  were  besieged 
with  inquiries,  but  they  were  equally  in  the  dark,  or  if  they 
did  know  thej  wouldn't  tell.  The  boys  imagined  that  the 
colonel  knew  all  about  it,  but  none  of  them  dared  to  ask 
him. 

Si  and  Shorty  sat  on  a  log  before  a  comfortable  fire  dis- 
cussing the  situation.  Si  wanted  to  have  a  big  fight  more 
than  he  wanted  anything  else  in  the  world,  or  at  least  he 
believed  he  did.  He  thought  he  would  not  be  of  any  pos- 
sible account  as  a  soldier  until  he  had  beem  through  a  bat- 
tle, and  the  bigger  it  was  the  better  it  would  suit  him. 
Hourly,  since  leaving  home,  he  had  given  free  utterance  to 
his  desires  in  this  direction. 

^'P'r'aps  ye'll  git  'fore  long  what  ye've  bin  wantin'  so 
bad,"  observed  Shorty.  ''Things  looks  kind  o'  squally 
ahead.  But  say.  Si,  what  made  ye  shake  so  when  that 
pesky  drum  routed  us  out  a  little  \^hile  ago  ?  Ye'll  have 
ter  git  over  that  sort  o'  thing." 

''Oh,  that  wan't  nothin,"  replied  Si,  trying  to  conceal 
his  chagrin  at  having  shown,  even  at  such  a  time,  any 
symptom  of  weakness  unbecoming  a  brave  soldier.  "It 
come  on  us  so  sudden  like,  'n'  all  the  ossifers  a-yellin'  at 
us,  a  feller  couldn't  help  it." 

* '  Quinine  's  what  they  take  fer  the  shakes  up  in  Injianny . ' ' 

"I  don't  need  no  quinine,  Shorty.  Jest  lemme  git  my 
second  wind.    I  ain't  goin'  ter  blow,  but  I  don't  mean  ter 


138  SI*S  QUANDARY.. 

let  anybody  in  this  'ere  rijiment  go  any  furder  'n  Si  Klegg 
does." 

**I  wasonlyjokin',Si.  Ib'lieveye;  'f  I  didn't  I  wouldn't 
have  ye  fer  my  pard.  But  what  ye  goin'  ter  do  with  all 
the  nicethings  yefotchedfrom  home?  Yer knapsack w^on't 
begin  ter  hold  'em,  'n'  ef  it  would  yer  couldn't  tote  'em. 
Ye  know  ye  can't  have  nothin'  but  what  ye  lug  on  yer 
back." 

"I  was  jest  thinkin'  'bout  that,"  said  Si;  and  the  fire- 
light showed  upon  his  face  a  look  of  anxiety.  He  bowed 
his  head  upon  his  hand  and  sat  for  a  moment  in  deep 
thought,  as  if  earnestly  w^restling  with  the  problem  that 
confronted  him. 

*'I  s'pose  I'll  have  ter  leave  some  on  'em  behind,"  he 
said,  sadly.  ''I  didn't  know 's  it  was  goin' ter  be  this  way. 
I  thought  they  had  plenty  o'  baggidge  waggins  fer  the  sol- 
jers.  I  hate  ter  fling  awa}^  them  things  that  mother  'n' 
Marier  'n'  An —  that  is,  I  mean  the  rest  o'  the  folks  give 
me.  I  b'lieve  I  c'n  carry  the  most  on  'em.  I'm  goin'  ter 
try  it,  anyway.    I  shan't  let  go  on  'em  till  I  iza/ter." 

''I  didn't  have  nobod}^  ter  cry  over  my  goin'  awaj^  er  to 
load  me  down,"  replied  Shorty,  *'  'n'  I'm  glad  on  it.  What 
I  got  f  m  the  quartermaster  's  all  I  want  ter  lug.  I've  got 
an  idee  that  3^011 '11  git  shet  o'  purty  much  everything  else 
'fore  ye've  tramped  a  thousan'  mile.  But  'f  I  was  you 
I'd  stick  to  'em  's  long  's  I  wanted  ter.  You're  a  nice  boy, 
Si,  'n'  has  lots  o'  relations  't  thinks  a  heap  on  ye.  I'm  a 
black  sheep,  as  hain't  got  no  friends,  'n'  'cordin'  ter  my 
notion  that's  the  best  thing  fer  a  soljer.  Ther '  ain't  nobody 
in  a  stew  'bout  me  all  the  time.  Ef  I  gits  killed  I  won't 
be  missed,  'n'  'twon't  break  nobod\^'s  heart.  I  don't  have 
to  bother  with  w^ritin'  no  letters,  nuther !  " 

"I  don't  'zacth^  agree  with  ye.  Shorty,"  replied  Si.  ''Ef 
I  thought  I  didn't  have  no  friends  I  wouldn't  keer  ter  live. 
Ef  I've  got  ter  git  killed  'n  this  war,  I'll  be  a  leetle  more 
reconciled  to  it  fer  knowin'  that  ther's  somebody  't  '11  feel 


IT  PROVES  A  SERIOUS  MATTER.  139 

bad  'n'  wish  the  bullets  'd  missed  me.  But  I  'low  we'd 
better  be  a  gittin'  down  ter  business.  I  don't  s'pose  they'll 
wait  fer  us  in  the  mornin'  ef  we  ain't  ready.  I  was  jest 
goin'  to  ax  yer,  Shorty,  how  we're  goin'  ter  carry  'long  sixty 
rounds  o'  ammernish'n;  catridge-boxes  don't  hold  but 
forty." 

**In  our  britches  pockets,  I  reck'n." 

Si  scarcely  knew  how  he  would  manage  it,  he  had  so 
many  other  things  that  would  test  the  capacity  of  all  his 
pockets.  Shorty  suggested  that  perhaps  he  could  put  the 
extra  twenty  rounds  in  his  knapsack,  but  Si  didn't  think 
he  would  have  any  room  in  that  to  spare.  The  conclusion 
arrived  at  was  that  the  cartridges  had  the  right  of  way 
and  something  else  would  have  to  yield.  What  it  would 
be  Si  could  not  yet  determine.  It  was  dawning  upon  him 
r.hat  a  sacrifice  would  have  to  be  made. 

The  whole  camp  was  soon  astir  with  the  work  of  prep- 
aration for  the  march.  Rations  were  issued,  and  each  man 
filled  his  haversack  with  hardtack,  bacon,  coffee  and  sugar. 
Cartridge-boxes  were  inspected  and  replenished  and  the 
extra  twenty  rounds  per  man  distributed  in  pursuance  of 
the  order. 

Si's  first  business  was  to  lay  in  his  commissar}^  supplies. 
Then  he  betook  himself  to  the  serious  job  of  packing  his 
knapsack.  When  he  realized  the  great  disparity  between 
the  heap  of  things  he  had  brought  with  him  and  the  space 
to  put  them  in,  he  found  himself  in  a  most  perplexing 
quandary.  After  figuring  on  it  for  a  while  without  finding 
a  way  out  of  the  woods,  he  determined  to  fall  back  on 
Shorty,  whose  practical  ideas  would,  he  thought,  prove 
valuable  to  him  in  his  dilemma.  Si  was  overstocked  with 
sentiment;  Shorty  had  none.  By  striking  an  average  a 
solution  of  the  puzzle  might  be  reached. 

''The  trouble  is,"  said  Shorty,  ''jq  can't  put  two  bushel 
o'  stuff  inter  a  peck  measure.  Ye'd  ought  ter  got  a  knap- 
sack made  to  order,  'bout  four  times  's  big  's  the  reggela- 


140  SI  BEGINS  THE  WORK, 

tion  size,  and  then  yt'd  had  ter  have  a  mule  ter  carry  it  fer 
ye.  I  never  done  much  marchin',  but  I've  had  jest  'nough 
so  's  I  know  how  heavy  a  knapsack  gits,  even  if  ther* 
ain't  much  in  it.  I  know  ye  wont  take  my  word  fer  it, 
ye'd  better  find  it  out  fer  yerself— an'it  won't  take  ye  long, 
nuther." 

But  Si  was  active,  strong  and  well,  and  had  unbounded 
faith  in  his  physical  abilities.  He  inwardly  resolved  that 
he  would  demonstrate  to  Shorty  what  he  could  do,  with- 
out wishing  to  spurn  the  well-meant  suggestions  of  his 
comrade.  Shorty  had  stowed  away,  in  about  five  minutes, 
his  simple  change  of  army  clothing,  and  that  was  all. 
His  knapsack  being  ready,  he  was  at  Hberty  to  bestow 
upon  his  ardent  young  friend  such  assistance  as  the  latter 
might  be  willing  to  accept. 

''Less  see,"  said  Si,  as  he  began  in  detail  upon  his  outfit, 
''I'm  goin'  ter  take  this  fortygraph  album,  'cause  it's  got 
all  the  folks's  pictur's ;  an'  this  'ere  portfolio,  'n'  the  slip- 
pers,, 'n'  this  rig  fer  mendin'  up  my  clothes,  'n'  the  pin- 
cushion, 'n'  the  soap  'n'  towels— I  don't  see  how  I  can  git 
'long  without  them.    I  don't  want  ter  Hvelike  a  heathen." 

"Ef  I  was  you.  Si,"  observed  Short^^,  "I'd  put  in  yer 
reg'lar  army  duds  fust.  Ye've  got  to  have  them,  an'  ye 
can  see  how  much  room  ye've  got  left.  Then  jq  can  tackle 
yer  knicknacks  'n'  fill  er  up  's  much  's  she'll  hold." 

A  moment's  reflection  convinced  Si  that  there  was  a 
strong  element  of  common  sense  in  this  suggestion,  and  he 
began  the  packing  process  in  that  way,  with  great  zeal. 

"Thar,"  he  said,  crowding  down  the  dainty  garments 
to  compress  them  into  the  smallest  possible  space,  "they're 
all  in  'n'  ther's  lots  o'  room  left.  Reck'n  I'd  better  chuck 
in  the  undershirts  'n'  socks  't  mother  'n'  Ant  Samanthy 
made  fer  me.  They'll  be  mighty  comftable  one  o'  these 
days.     This  pa'r  o'  boots  I  kin  hang  on  the  outside." 

Then  Si  began  on  the  miscellaneous  collection.  The  slip- 
pers and  handkerchiefs  that  Annabel  had  given  him,  went 


AND  IS  HIGHLY  ENCOURAGED. 


141 


in  first.  He  would  stick  to  them  while  he  was  able  to  lift 
an  ounce.  Other  articles  rapidly  followed,  as  one  by  one 
they  were  taken  up  and  duly  considered.  He  thought  how 
handy  they  would  be,  and  of  the  loving  hands  that  had 
wrought  them  for  him,  and  the  verdict  in  each  case  was 
that  it  could  not  be  spared,  and  in  it  went.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  till  the  knapsack  began  to  show  signs  of 
fullness,  and  not  half  his  things  were  in  yet. 
*' Better  buckle  'er  ^ 


up. 


said  Shorty, 
*"n'  see  how  she 
looks." 

Si  closed  the  flaps 
and  fastened  the 
buckles,  though  not 
without  labor.  He 
kneaded  it  down  like 
dough  with  his  fists, 
and  got  upon  it  with 
his  knees,  in  the  effort 
to  make  himself  be- 
lieve that  it  would 
hold  a  good  deal 
more. 

**If  these  straps 
was  only  injy-rub- 
ber,"  he  said  in  a 
tone  of  disappoint- 
ment, ''but  they're  leather,  'n'  they  won't  stretch  a  bit!  "^ 

At  length  he  got  it  buckled  and  Shorty  suggested  that 
he  put  it  on  just  to  see  how  it  felt,  and  he  might  be  able 
to  judge  how  much  more  he  could  stand. 

''Fiddlesticks,"  said  Si,  " 'tain't  heavy;  I  c'n  lift  it  with 
one  hand.  I  c'd  carry  the  hull  caboodle  well  'nough  'f  the 
thing  'd  only  hold  'em." 

"Ye  don't  want  ter  fergit  't  yer  overcoat  'n'  yer  blankets 


THE  TUG   OF  WAR. 


142  shorty's  views  ox  books. 

'n'  quilts,  'f  ye  take  'em  all,  has  got  ter  go  on  top  yit. 
They'll  make  'er  a  right  smart  heavier." 

Even  this  did  not  weaken  Si's  faith  in  himself.  What  if 
his  knapsack  did  weigh  forty  or  fifty  pounds ;  ^that  would 
be  a  mere  feather's  weight  on  the  shoulders  of  a  strong 
boy  like  him.  Then  Si  unfastened  the  straps,  determined 
to  put  in  other  articles — they  had  got  to  go. 

''Hadn't  ye  better  give  'way  one  o'  yer  Bibles,  'f  ye  can 
find  anybody  't  '11  take  it?"  asked  Shorty.  '"Pears  ter 
me  'f  ye  gits  all  the  good  out  o'  one  on  'em  ye'll  be  a  heap 
better  'n'  the  av'ridge." 

"I'd  like  ter  give  it  to  you.  Shorty!  " 

"I  reck'n  'f  you  'n'  me  's  goin'  ter  be  pardners,  we  c'u 
git  'long  purty  well  with  one  Bible  'tween  us.  I  don't 
s'pose  I'll  read  it  much,  anyway,  'n'  \NrhenI  do  want  it  you 
c'n  lend  me  j^ourn." 

But  Si  could  not  bring  himself  to  part  with  either  of 
them.  One  was  a  Christmas  present  from  his  mother  and 
the  other  the  parson  had  given  him. 

"Never  mind,"  he  said,  "I  c'n  carry  one  of  'em  in  my 
pocket  'n'  I  wont  feel  it  there."  He  did  argue  with  him- 
self whether  it  would  not  be  best  to  try  and  rub  along 
without  Bunyan  and  the  hymn-book.  He  believed  he 
could  remember  all  the  hymns  he  would  want  to  sing. 

"I'd  let  'em  slide  'f  I  was  you,"  said  Shorty.  "They're 
fust  class  fer  a  Sunday  school  liber^-  but  they  don't  b'long 
in  a  knapsack.  If  I  had  to  tote  'em  I'm  afeard  the 
s'warin'  I'd  do  'd  spile  all  the  good  I'd  git  out  of  'em.  I 
ain't  goin'  ter  say  nothin'  agin  yer  Bible,  but  right  thar'vS 
whar  I  draw  the  line  on  books.  Ef  ye  was  a  mule-driver, 
er  'f  ye  had  a  hoss  to  ride,  ye  mout  manage  'em,  but  don't 
ye  try  ter  carry  'em  along.  Ye'd  better  give  'em  to  some 
cavalryman.  I  don't  know  of  anybody  't  needs  that  kind 
o'  readin'  more'n  they  do." 

Si  seemed  to  be  favorably  impressed  with  this  suggestion, 
and  said  he  would  bear  it  in  mind.    He  thought  it  quite 


SUNDRY  FREAKS  OF  AFFECTION.  143 

possible  that  he  might  find  somebody  whose  spiritual  con- 
dition was  worse  than  his  own,  and  if  he  could  benefit 
him  by  these  volumes  it  would  ease  his  conscience  for  dis- 
carding them  from  his  outfit.  He  said  he  would  take  them 
along  at  first,  and  if  he  found  them  too  burdensome  he 
would  watch  for  an  opportunity  to  dispose  of  them  in 
that  way.  So  he  jammed  them  into  the  knapsack  and  got 
on  them  with  all  his  weight  to  crowd  them  down. 

''Here's  this  blackin'  kit,"  he  remarked.  ''Mother  told 
me  ter  keep  myself  lookin'  slick,  'n'  of  course  I  want  ter  do 
it.  The  brush  won't  pack  very  well  'n'  I'll  tie  it  on  the 
outside  with  a  string.  I  c'n  put  the  box  o'  blackin' 
'n  my  pocket.  This  clothes-brush  I  c'n  hang  on  some- 
^where." 

The  "housewife  "  that  his  sister  had  made  for  him  both- 
ered him  sorely.  He  was  profoundly  impressed  with  its 
value  for  keeping  his  garments  in  repair,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  feeling  he  had  toward  it  for  Maria's  sake. 

"I'll  leave  it  to  you,  Shorty,"  he  said,  "  'f  it  wouldn't  be 
durned  mean  to  sling  that  av^ay." 

"Looks  so,"  replied  Shorty,  "but  'fore  ye  git  home, 
'nless  the  war  ends  sooner  'n  I  think  'twill,  ye'll  have  ter 
do  a  good  many  things' 't  goes  agin  the  grain.  Ye  might 
's  well  begin  now  'n'  be  gittin'  used  to  it.  As  I  told  ye 
'afore,  I'm  glad  I  hain't  got  a  lot  o'  sich  traps  to  bother  m^- 
liead  about." 

"I  wish  Marier  hadn't  made  it  big 'nough  fer  a  hull 
fam'ly,"  said  Si,  as  he  squeezed  it  in  under  the  straps  of 
the  knapsack.     "I  ain't  goin'  back  on  her  yet,  though !  " 

Then  he  came  to  the  toilet-case— a  pretty- box  fitted  with 
hair-brush,  tooth-brush,  combs,  glass  and  hair-oil.  With 
the  utmost  deference  to  the  affection  that  prompted  Cousin 
Betsey  to  make  this  contribution  to  Si's  museum,  no  old 
veteran,  whose  shoulders  ached  under  the  load  he  tried  to 
carry  when  he  started  out,  will  for  a  moment  take  issue 
^th  the  proposition  that  such  a  thing  ought  not  to  have 


144  BRUSHES  AND    "HA'r-ILE." 

a  place  in  a  soldier's  knapsack.    Its  utility  was  not  pro- 
portionate to  its  weight  or  the  space  it  required. 

''  Cousin  Betsey  gimme  that,"  said  Si,  sorrowfully,  "but 
I  don't  see  how  I'm  goin'  ter  git  it  in,  nohow.  It'd  be 
nice  ter  have." 

"If  ye'd  put  some  wheels  to  it  ye  mout  hitch  a  string  to 
it  'n'  draw  it  'long  behind  ye,"  said  Shorty,  with  a  laugh. 

Si  felt  that  his  feelings  were  being  trifled  with,  but  when 
he  really  came  to  think  of  it  he  could  not  help  agreeing 
with  Shorty  that  it  "wouldn't  pay." 

"  Ther'  ain't  nothin'  ye  need  in  thar,"  said  Shorty,  as  he 
inspected  the  contents  of  the  box,  " 'cept  that  ar'  fine 
comb.  That'll  come  mighty  handy  to  ye  arter  a  while,  'n* 
I'd  'vise  ye  ter  hang  to  it.  It'll  be  the  usefullest  thing,  fer 
its  Aveight  'n'  bigness,  in  yer  hull  outfit.  That  glass  ain't 
no  'count.  Ye've  got  a  purty  face  ter  look  at  now,  but 
bime-by  ye'll  look  so  tough  't  ye  won't  want  ter  see  yerself. 
Ye'd  think  'twas  somebody  else  'sides  Si  Klegg.  Wait 
t'll  ye've  been  goin'  it  stiddy  fer  a  year  'n'  ye'll  feel 
like  smashin'  yer  lookin'-glass.  Talk  'bout  brushes! 
Ye've  got  a  clothes-brush  'n'  a  blackin '-brush  'n'  a  ha'r- 
brush  'n'  a  tooth-brush,  'n'  I  don't  know  how  many  more. 
The  boys  '11  think  ye're  the  travelin'  agent  fer  a  brush  fac- 
t'ry.  We'll  have  a  ^  brush '  with  the  Rebs  one  o'  these  fine 
days,  and  then  ye  won't  be  thinkin'  'bout  no  other  kind. 
What's  all  them  fancy  wipes  good  fer?"— as  Si  handled 
over  the  pretty  handkerchiefs,  with  his  initial  worked  in 
the  corners,  that  Annabel  had  given  him.  "  The^^  ain't  no 
'count.  As  fer  ha'r-ile" —  and  Shorty  lifted  his  nose  and 
turned  away  his  face  in  extreme  disgust.  "Ef  j^e've  got 
any  notion  o'  bein'  a  dandy.  Si,  ye  want  ter  git  'pinted  on 
some  gin'ral's  staff.  Ther'  aint  no  other  place  fer  the  like 
o'  them." 

Si  listened  thoughtfully  to  Shorty's  long  speech.  He 
began  to  think  that,  so  far  as  the  toilet-case  was  concerned, 
bis  pard  was  not  far  from  right. 


WRECK  OF  si's   **DRUG-ST0RE."  145 

'*I  b'lieve,'*  he  said,  after  thinking  it  over,  ''I  won't  try 
ffcr  carr}^  that  box.  I  c'n  scatter  the  things  'round  'n  my 
f)ockets." 

*'If  3^e  don't  look  out,"  said  Shorty,  *'yer  pockets  '11  fool 
ye  's  bad  's  3^er  knapsack  did.  Catridges  is  made  o'  lead, 
'n'  ye've  got  ter  lug  two  big  bunches  of  'em,  'sides  them  in 
yer  box." 

But  Si's  faith  in  his  pockets  was  unshaken.  He  said  he 
guessed  they'd  hold  all  he  wanted  to  put  in  them. 

*'\Vhat'd  I  better  do  with  this  rewbarb  'n'  pennyr'yal, 
'n'  them  bottles  o'  stuff 't  mother  put  up  fer  me  'f  I  sh'dgit 
sick?  Prob'ly  I  orter  have  'em,  but  I  don't  see  no  place.  I 
wouldn't  mind  carryin'  'em  but  ther'  ain't  room." 

** Ye've  got  a  good  mother,  Si.  I  'low  she's  one  o'  the 
best  wimmen  'n  the  world." 

"You  bet  she  is,  Shorty ! " 

"That's  all  right,  'n'  I'm  glad  of  it,  but  she  don't  know 
no  more  'bout  soljerin'  'n  you  do.  Ther'  ain't  no  sense  'n 
tryin'  to  carry  a  drug  store  on  yer  back  all  through  the 
war.  The  doctors  've  got  dead  loads  o'  medicine,  'n'  'f  ye 
git  under  the  v^eather,  they'll  cram  it  into  ye  t'll  ye  can't 
rest.    'Twon't  cost  ye  nothin',  nuther." 

Si  did  not  enjoy  taking  medicine.  He  had  never  had  any 
sickness  to  speak  of,  and  he  thought  there  was  little  likeli- 
hood that  he  would  need  the  remedies  which  his  mother 
had  so  kindly  put  up  for  him.  The  "drug  store,"  as 
Shorty  termed  it,  was  the  first  thing  he  had  found  that 
he  thought  he  could  do  without.  If  it  had  been  pos- 
sible he  would  have  taken  it  along,  but  he  was  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  stern  necessity  of  cutting  off  some- 
thing, and  he  concluded  this  was  the  best  place  to  begin. 
He  thought  he  would  take  the  chances  with  the  doctors. 
So  he  flung  the  bottles  one  by  one  against  a  log,  and  threw 
the  "yarbs  "  into  the  fire.  He  did  not  do  it  without  some 
compunctions    of  conscience,   and  he  hoped  his   mother 


146  SI  GIVES   A   PARTY. 

'would  never  know  the  rude  fate  that  befell  his  medicine 
<ihest. 

"That's  the  sensiblest  thing  ye've  done  to-night,  Si,*' 
said  his  comrade.  ''Now  what  ar'  ye  goin'  ter  do  with 
^hem  cans  o'  peaches  'n'  bottles  o'  pickles  'n'  that  butter? 
Ye '11  find  them  heavy  'nough  'f  ye  try  ter  carr\^  'em." 

Si  ''hefted"  them  and  was  forced  to  admit  that  they 
would  add  too  much  to  his  burden,  even  were  it  possible 
to  stow  them  away. 

"Ye'd  better  eat  'em  up  'fore  ye  start,  'f  yQ  kin,"  said 
Shorty,  "Ye  won't  be  likely  ter  git  no  more  soft  bread  fer 
a  while,  'n'  butter  ain't  no  good  on  hardtack." 

Large  as  was  Si's  capacity  for  anj^thing  good  to  eat,  it 
was  out  of  the  question  for  him  to  dispose  in  that  way  of 
all  the  toothsome  dainties  with  which  his  mother  had  sup- 
plied him.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  shared  them  freely  with 
Short}',  but  still  further  assistance  was  necessar3^  So  he 
invited  six  or  eight  of  his  friends  to  join  them,  and  by  the 
light  of  the  fire  they  emptied  the  cans  and  bottles  of  their 
contents. 

"I  guess  I'm  fixed.  Shorty,"  said  Si.  "We'll  only  have  a 
couple  o*  hours  ter  sleep ;  lets  go  ter  bed !  " 


CHAPTER  XI. 

In  Which  Si's  Big  Knapsack  Proves  too  Much  for  Him,  and  He 
Applies  Heroic  Treatment. 

i  i  TT  ELLO,  Si,  wake  up,  wake  up !  " 

Jlj_     "Oh,  quit!  Lemme  'lone!  I'm  sleepy!" 

**  Don't  ye  hear  'em  beatin'  the  drums  'n'  tootin'  the 
bugles ?  "  said  Shorty.  "It's  the  revel-7ee,*  'n'  ye  have  ter 
turn  out,  right  quick.  Ye  know  we've  got  ter  march  to- 
day." 

By  this  time,  aroused  by  sundry  shakes  and  nudges,  Si 
was  fairly  awake,  and  sprang  up  in  an  instant,  happy  in 
the  thought  that  he  was  to  move  upon  the  enemy.  In  his 
dreams,  during  his  brief  sleep,  he  had  fought  a  whole  war 
through. 

"Fall  in  fer  roll-call.  Company  Q !  "  yelled  the  orderly. 

"Seems  ter  me,"  said  Si,  as  he  hurriedly  threw  on  his 
blouse,  "we  hain't  done  much  since  we've  been  in  camp  but 
fall  in  fer  roll-call.  I  can't  see  no  use  doin'  it  six  or  eight 
times  a  day.  Wonder  'f  they  stop  right  in  the  middle  of  a 
big  fight  'n'  call  the  roll  when  it  comes  time— do  they 

*  Wise  men  who  made  the  dictionaries  say  that  "reveille"  should  be 
pronounced  "re-re/-ye"  or  "re-ra/-ya,"  but  it  was  never  heard  so  in  the 
army.  The  word  was  always  spoken  "  rev-el-/ee. "  This  pronunciation 
would  be  fatally  disastrous  to  the  cadence  of  Scott's  smoothly  flowing 
lines,  in  the  **  Lady  of  the  Lake  " : 

"Huntsman,  rest!  thy  chase  is  done, 

While  our  slumbrous  spells  assail  ye; 
Dream  not  with  the  rising  sun 

Bugles  here  shall  sound  reveille." 

147 


148  THE   GREAT   ARMY  ASTIR. 

Shorty?    An'  does  the  rebels  quit  shootin'  t'll  they  gits^ 
through  ? ' ' 

"  Wall  noAV,  Si,  ye've  got  ter  Tarn  not  to  fret.  Ye  don't 
want  ter  know  nothin'  ner  ax  no  questions.  Ye  mus'n't 
tTiink  'bout  nothin'  'cept  ter  jest  do  what  the  ossifers  tells 
ye  to.  Ef  ye  does  that  ye'U  make  a  soljer;  'f  ye  don't  ye 
won't  'mount  ter  shucks." 

One  of  the  first  things  an  orderh^  sergeant  had  to  learn, 
was  to  call  the  roll  of  his  company  from  memor^^,  so  that 
he  could  go  through  the  ninety  or  a  hundred  names  in  the 
darkest  night  without  a  skip.  A  man  who  could  not 
master  the  long  list  in  a  week  was  not  considered  fit  to  be 
an  orderly.  The  first  sergeant  of  Company  Q  had  not  yet 
learned  his  roll,  and  was  compelled  to  call  it  from  his  book., 
by  the  feeble  light  of  a  candle. 

''The  'general '  will  sound  in  an  hour,"  said  the  captain^ 
*'and  you  must  be  through  with  your  breakfast  and  ready 
to  strike  tents.  Then  you  will  pack  the  wagons  and  roll 
up  your  blankets,  and  at  five  o'clock,  when  you  hear  the. 
*  assembly,'  every  man  must  promptly  fall  in." 

"Shorty,"  said  Si,  after  the  compan^^  w^as  dismissed,, 
"what  does  the  Gin'ral  say  when  he  yells  out  fer  us  ta 
strike  tents  ?  Thecap'n  said  we'd  hear  the  Gin'ral  '  sound ' 
in  an  hour." 

"  Ye're  'way  off,  Si.  The  Gin'ral  don't  saj^  nothin'.  It's 
the  drums  'n' bugles  as  does  thesoundin'.  That's  only  the 
name  they  gives  ter  that  call.  Ye'U  find  it  if  ye'll  read  the 
army  reggelations." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know,"  said  Si,  "but  I  thought  the  Gin'ral 
*d  have  to  yell  purty  loud  to  make  'em  all  hear." 

The  whole  army  was  to  move.  Ten  minutes  later  the 
darkness  that  had  brooded  over  the  great  camp  was  dis- 
pelled by  the  gleaming  light  of  countless  fires.  It  w^as  a 
wild,  weird  scene.  Fifty  thousand  men  were  bustling 
about,  busy  in  the  final  preparations  for  the  march. 
To  break  camp  and  strip  an  army  of  its  incumbrances  for 


SI  THINKS   ''she'll  DO."  149 

;an  active  campaign  was  a  prodigious  task,  only  accom- 
plished by  the  combined  labors  of  all  its  multitude  of  men 
"When  completely  mobilized  and  upon  the  road,it  would  drop 
for  rest  by  the  way-side,  in  field  or  forCvSt,  as  circumstances 
permitted,  always  ready,  by  day  or  night,  to  spring  at 
sound  of  drum  or  bugle,  to  march  or  fight. 

Making  coffee  and  frying  bacon  were  the  onh^  culinary 
processes  required  to  make  ready  the  frugal  breakfast,  and 
the  morning  meal  was  soon  over.  The  bo3^s  ate  the  last 
■of  their  soft  bread,  and  not  for  many  a  da^^  did  they  see 
^ny  more. 

Then,  amidst  a  very  Babel  of  shouts  and  distracting 
^commands,  the  tents  w^ere  taken  down,  and  the  company 
baggage,  that  w^as  to  be  left  behind,  was  loaded  into  the 
:wagons. 

When  Si  had  finished  his  part  in  the  general  work,  head- 
dressed  himself  once  more  to  his  personal  belongings.  The 
job  of  getting  his  knapsack  ready  for  the  march,  so 
;auspiciously  begun  some  hours  before,  was  not  finished. 
Each  part  of  the  receptacle  was  crammed  to  its  utmost 
•capacit}'.  When  he  brought  them  together  his  whole 
weight  was  not  sufficient  to  make  the  straps  and  buckles 
^connect.  He  was  obliged  to  call  Shorty  to  his  assistance. 
By  dint  of  much  tugging  and  squeezing,  their  united  efforts 
were  at  length  successful  in  making  the  ends  meet. 

"There,"  said  Si,  viewing  the  great  round  heap  with  un- 
disguised satisfaction,  "I  reck'n  she'll  do.  I  c'n  carry  that 
jest  's  easy 's  rollin'  off  a  log.  All  these  other  contraptions 
I'm  goin'  ter  hitch  on  the  outside." 

Having  provided  himself  wath  strings,  he  tied  on  his  fry- 
ing-pan, coffee-pot,  hatchet,  assortment  of  brushes  and 
the  boots.  Then  he  rolled  up  the  two  blankets,  the 
quilt  and  his  overcoat,  making  a  bundle  nearly  as  large 
as  the  knapsack  itself.  This  he  strapped  upon  the  top,  and 
the  work  was  complete.     Si  vras  ready  to  take  the  road. 

Promptly  at  five  o  clock  the  ' '  assembly ' '  sounded  through 


150  si's  cheerful  confidence. 

the  camp,  and  cries  of  "Fall  in,  men!"  were  heard  on 
every  hand.  The  new  soldiers  of  the  200th  Indiana  were 
determined  to  toe  the  mark  in  the  most  approved  manner^ 
and  they  began  to  hustle  around  with  the  greatest  activity. 
At  the  first  note  of  the  bugle  Si  bounded  from  the  ground^ 
wrhere  he  had  been  resting  from  his  labors.  He  buckled  on 
his  cartridge-box ;  then  gayly  tossed  the  strap  of  his  can- 
teen over  one  shoulder,  and  that  of  his  bulging  haversack 
over  the  other.  Then  he  took  hold  of  his  knapsack  and 
tried  to  "sling"  it.  He  had  done  this  half  a  dozen  times 
before,  just  for  practice,  but  it  did  not  then  weigh  a  quarter 
as  much  as  now.  Seizing  it  with  his  strong  arm  he  gave 
it  a  long,  upward  swing,  and  it  came  down  upon  his 
shoulders  like  an  avalanche.  He  staggered  under  the  shock, 
while  the  coffee-pot,  frying-pan  and  other  articles  upon  the 
outside  dangled  about  and  jingled  a  merry  tune.  Si  leaned 
forward  until  his  back  was  nearly  horizontal,  so  that  the 
unwieldy  hump  would  stay  in  its  place  until  he  could  fasten 
it.  He  wriggled  and  twisted  in  his  abortive  efforts  to- 
reach  the  strap  and  make  the  connection. 

"Guess  ye  want  a  leetle  lift,"  exclaimed  Shorty  with  a 
laugh,  as  he  came  to  his  assistance  and  fastened  the  hook. 
"Ye  11  want  more  help  'fore  night  'f  I  ain't  badly  mistook.'*" 

"Oh,  this  ain't  nothin',"  said  Si,  cheerily,  as  he  slowly 
straightened  up,  the  knapsack  almost  pulling  him  over 
backward.  "It's  jest  'slight 's  a  feather.  I  c'n  carry  that 
a  hull  day  'n'  not  half  try." 

Then  taking  his  musket.  Si  moved  with  a  wabbling  gait 
to  his  place  in  Company  Q.  There  were  many  other  very 
large  knapsacks,  but  his  unquestionably  would  have  been, 
awarded  the  first  prize  at  a  county  fair. 

"Mr.  Klegg,  fall  back  into  the  rear  rank!  "  shouted  the 
orderly,  who  was  fussing  around  in  the  usual  way,  trying- 
to  meet  the  responsibilities  that  rested  so  heavily  upon 
him. 

The  company  had  only  been  formed  a  few  times,  but  Si 


HE  GETS  A  SET-BACK. 


151 


had  always  taken  his  place  in  the  front  rank .  He  naturally 
belonged  there;  he  wanted  to  be  where  he  could  see  all 
that  was  going  on,  and  could  be  one  of  the  first  to  *'go  in," 
without  having  anybody  in  his  way.  It  sorely  wounded 
his  pride  to  be  ordered  into  the  rear  rank. 

"What's  that  fer,  ord'ly  ?"  he  said,  unable  to  concealhis 
chagrin. 

'"Cause  I  tell 
ye  to ;  that's  all 
the  reason  you 
-want." 

The  orderly 
had  been  one  of 
the  ''big"  boys 
of  the  town — a 
size  larger  than 
Si — and  was  al- 
ready manifest- 
ing a  fondness 
for  exercising  the 
authority  which 
was  vested  in 
him  by  virtue  of 
his  position.  Si 
felt  that  he  was 
just  as  good  as 
the  orderly,  and 
was  on  the  point 
of  raising  an 
issue  with  him 
on  the  spot. 

''Don't  ye  say  nothin'.  Si,"  said  Shorty,  in  a  low  voice. 
"Ye  want  ter  recolleck  what  I  told  ye  'n'  jest  obey  orders, 
er  yell  git  yerself  into  a  sling  'fore  ye  know  it !  I  'low  't 
he  put  ye  'n  the  rear  rank  on  'count  o'  the  big  knapsack  'n' 
tin-shop  on  yer  back.    If  ye  was  in  front  ther'  couldn't 


READY   FOR   THE   MARCH. 


152  A   DISTINCTION  WITH  A  DIFFERENCE. 

nobody  stan'  behind  ye  'thout  gittin'  way  out  o'  line. 
When  yer  load  shrinks  mebbe  ye  c'n  git  back  'f  ye  want 
ter." 

Si  took  the  place  assigned  him  without  any  further  at- 
tempt to  have  a  rumpus  with  the  orderly.  But  his 
''spunk  "  was  up,  and  he  was  determined  to  stick  to  that 
knapsack,  whether  the  Union  was  saved  or  not.  His  gro- 
tesque appearance  called  forth  many  jests  from  his  com- 
rades, but  these  only  contributed  to  the  further  develop- 
ment of  his  ''nerve." 

"They  think  I've  bit  off  more'n  I  c'n  chaw,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "but  I'll  show  'em!  Si  Klegg  knows  what  he's 
^bout." 

When  the  company  was  ready,  the  captain  came  out 
to  take  it  off  the  orderly's  hands.  He  had  no  per- 
sonal baggage  except  his  dainty  patent-leather  haversack, 
and  something  over  the  other  shoulder  that  looked  like  a 
flask. 

"Don't  he  have  to  carry  no  knapsack?"  Si  asked  of 
Shorty.  The  distinctions  and  inequalities  of  rank  had  not 
yet  found  their  way  into  his  understanding. 

"Course  not!"  replied  Shorty.  "Don't  ye  know  't  the 
ossifers  has  everything  done  fer  'em  ?  If  ye  don't  yell  find 
it  out  purty  quick.  Ye  know  the  orders  't  was  read  las' 
night  said  ther'  wouldn't  be  but  one  baggidge-wagin  fer 
the  hull  rijiment.     That's  fer  the  ossifers." 

"The  ossifers  has  a  soft  thing,  don't  they?"  said  Si, 
Yliose  shoulders  were  even  now  beginning  to  twinge  a 
little. 

"  Company,  Right— Face !  Forward— March !  "  and  Com- 
pany Q  started  for  its  place  on  the  color  line.  The  well- 
stuffed  knapsacks  bobbed  up  and  dov.  n  like  humps  on  the 
backs  of  so  many  camels.  The  colon-  and  the  other  field 
and  staff  officers,  booted  and  spurred,  came  out  on  their 
prancing  horses.  The  adjutant  rode  wildly  up  and  down 
the  line,  directing:  the  formation  of  the  battalion. 


THE  WEARISOME  WAITING.  153 

•*  Right— Dress!" 

In  the  effort  to  get  into  a  straight  line,  the  ranks  surged 
to  and  fro,  like  the  surface  of  a  body  of  water  when  there 
is  a  ''sea  on." 

''Front!" 

A  fairly  satisfactory  result  having  been  obtained,  the 
adjutant  saluted  the  colonel  and  told  him  the  regiment 
was  formed.  The  colonel  sent  an  orderly  to  brigade  head- 
quarters with  word  that  the  200th  Indiana  was  ready,  and 
the  work  of  putting  down  the  rebellion  could  now  begin 
in  earnest. 

When  forty  or  fifty  regiments  were  ordered  to  march  at 
the  same  hour  on  the  same  road,  some  of  them  had  to 
wait.  It  was  three  hours  before  the  200th  Indiana  pulled 
out— and  long,  tedious  hours  they  were.  The  men  who 
composed  it  had  not  yet  been  educated  in  the  school  of 
patience.  During  the  first  hour  they  were  kept  standing 
in  line,  that  there  might  not  be  a  moment's  delay  when 
the  order  should  come  to  join  the  long  procession  that  was 
moving  upon  the  pike. 

Ten  minutes  had  not  passed  when  Si's  back  and  shoulders 
iDcgan  to  ache.  Furtively  slipping  his  gun  around  behind 
him,  he  placed  the  butt  upon  the  ground  and  braced  the 
muzzle  under  his  knapsack.  This  gave  slight  temporary 
relief,  but  whenever  a  galloping  horseman  was  seen,  the 
colonel  commanded  "Attention!  "  and  there  was  no  more 
resting  until  official  vigilance  was  relaxed. 

At  length  it  dawned  upon  the  colonel's  mind  that  the 
men  could  just  as  well  be  taking  it  easy,  as  far  as  circum- 
stances would  permit.  So  he  told  them  the}-  might  break 
ranks  and  rest  at  will.  Knapsacks  were  not  to  be  unslung, 
however,  and  every  man  must  be  ready  to  spring  into  his 
place  at  the  word  of  command.  Then  those  already  tired 
Hoosiers  experienced  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  what 
a  blessed  relief  it  was  to  a  sokh'er  burdened  with  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  war,  to  lie  on  his  back  with  all  his  traps 


154  THEY  WANTED  FRONT  SEATS. 

on,  slide  down  a  few  inches  to  loosen  the  straps,  and  rest, 
with  his  head  pillowed  on  his  knapsack.  There  were  few 
things  in  the  army  that  yielded  as  much  solid  comfort  to 
the  square  inch  as  this.  It  has  no  existence  in  the  memory 
of  a  cavalryman. 

The  men  of  the  200th  Indiana  watched  with  jealous  eyes 
the  column  of  troops,  that  seemed  to  have  no  end,  passing- 
in  the  road.  They  were  sure  there  would  be  a  fight  that 
daj^,  and  what  possible  chance  would  they  have  to  get  any 
of  it,  with  so  many  ahead  of  them  ?  They  were  all  anxious 
to  have  front  seats  at  the  first  entertainment  they  were  to 
witness,  however  much  this  desire  might  be  modified  in 
the  future. 

Si  Klegg  was  greatly  disturbed  by  the  apprehension  that 
it  would  be  all  over  before  he  got  there.  He  did  not  know^ 
then  how  long  they  had  to  chase  over  the  country  somC' 
times  when  they  were  looking  for  somebody  who  wanted 
to  fight,  nor  what  a  disappointment  awaited  his  expecta- 
tion  of  pleasure  in  a  battle. 

''Looks like  they  warn't  goin'  tergive  us  no  show  't  all,"^ 
he  said,  as  he  tried  to  roll  over  so  that  he  could  talk  to 
Shorty. 

''Now  don't  git  in  a  sweat,"  replied  his  comrade.  "I 
know  ye've  got  lots  o'  sand  in  yer  gizzard,  but  ye're  goin' 
ter  git  filled  chuck  full  'fore  3^e  gits  through  with  this  thing. 
Ye  won't  be  half  so  hungry  arter  a  while ! " 

Nothing  could  dampen  Si's  ardor,  and  as  regiments  and 
brigades  swept  hj,  he  felt  that  his  chance  to  win  military 
renown  was  growing  slimmer  and  slimmer.  There  cer- 
tainly would  not  be  any  batteries  left  for  him  to  help  cap- 
ture. 

"Attention,  Two  Hundredth  Indiana!  " 

The  long  looked-for  order  had  come  at  last.  Si  got  up 
at  once— or  rather  he  tried  to  do  so,  for  it  was  very  much 
as  if  a  millstone  were  hanged  about  his  neck.  His  knap- 
sack weighed  twice  as  much  as  when  he  put  it  on  in  the 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET  AGAIN.  155 

early  morning.  He  only  succeeded  in  reaching  an  erect 
posture  by  rolling  over  and  getting  up  by  degrees, 
with  the  aid  of  his  hands  and  knees.  He  was  a  little 
'* groggy,"  but  he  knew  he  would  be  all  right  after  he  got 
fairly  started. 

The  colonel's  sword  swished  through  the  air  as  he  drew 
it  from  its  scabbard  and  gave  the  order  ''Forw^ard — 
March,"  and  the  raging  patriots  turned  their  faces  in  the 
direction  of  the  foe— or  where  he  was  supposed  to  be.  The 
200th  had  been  assigned  to  a  brigade  of  four  or  five  regi- 
ments of  veterans,  who  for  tw^elve  or  fifteen  months  had 
been  doing  some  hard  fighting  and  a  great  deal  of  hard 
marching.  They  had  learned  much  of  war.  Their  romantic 
fictions  had  long  since  disappeared  and  they  had  got  down 
to  the  reality  of  army  life. 

The  200th  w^as  to  lead  the  brigade  that  day,  and  as  it 
marched  past  the  old  regiments  the  boys  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  those  who  were  to  be  their  companions  in 
camp  and  field.  The  few  knapsacks  that  still  remained 
among  the  veterans  looked  scarcely  larger  than  postage- 
stamps  stuck  on  their  backs,  compared  wnth  the  huge  masses 
that  w^ere  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Indianians. 
Listen  to  those  ragged  and  depraved  old  soldiers  as  the  men 
of  the  200th  Indiana,  with  their  fresh  faces,  clean  new 
clothes  and  burnished  arms,  go  tramping  by  : 

''Here's  yer  mules,  boys!     Look  at  the  loads  they're 
packin'!" 
''Fresh  fish!" 

"Ther'  hain't  no  dew  fell  on  'em  yet." 
"I  say,  how'd  ye  leave  Mary  Ann  'n'  all  the  folks  to 
hum?'.' 

"Look  at  the  fellers  with  fortifications  on  their  backs.*' 

"Here's  a  hull  rijiment  o'  knapsacks  w4th  legs  to  em!" 

*' Ye'll  be  a  sheddin'  them  things  'fore  night." 

"Hello,  thar,  Bub,  how  d'  ye  sell  tin-ware?" 

This  heartless  question  w^as  aimed  at  Si  Klegg,  whose 


156  IT  GROWS  WARM. 

ponderous  and  picturesque  outfit  was  a  conspicuous  target 
for  the  raillery  of  the  brown  and  bearded  veterans.  Si's 
feelings  were  outraged.  He  wondered  why  men  vvho  were 
so  lost  to  all  decency  were  not  court-martialed  and  shot. 
He  straightened  himself  up  and  cast  upon  his  tormentors 
a  look  of  unutterable  scorn.  Sharp  words  of  retort  flew 
from  his  tongue,  but  they  \vere  lost  in  the  chorus  of  wild 
yells  of  derision  that  greeted  him. 

*' Better  dry  up,  Si,"  said  Shorty  ''them  chaps  is  too 
many  fer  ye.  Wait  t'll  3^e  git  a  little  more  practice  'fore 
ye  try  to  talk  to  sich  duffers  's  they  be." 

Si  checked  his  combative  impulses,  and  marched  on  in 
silence. 

Once  upon  the  road  the  column  stretched  away  at  a 
brisk  gait.  I.^he  colonel  of  the  200th  was  determined  that 
his  regiment  should  not  fall  behind,  while  the  men  wanted 
to  show  the  fleet-footed  veterans  that  they  could  get  over 
the  ground  as  fast  as  anybody.  They  indulged  the  hope 
that  they  would  soon  have  an  opportunity  to  show  the 
old  soldiers — who  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  whipping  the 
rebel  army— how  to  fight  as  well  as  how  to  march. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  was  rapidly  climbing  the  eastern 
.sky,  and  his  ra^^s  were  beginning  to  beat  down  fiercely 
upon  the  now  perspiring  patriots.  Si  had  not  gone  a  mile 
till  his  tongue  was  hanging  out  and  he  found  himself  pant- 
ing for  breath.  Already  his  shoulders  were  aching  as  they 
had  never  ached  before  in  all  his  life.  And  the  day's  march 
had  but  just  begun! 

*'  How  're  ye  makin'  it.  Si  ?"  inquired  Shorty,  with  tendei 
solicitude.  He  had  noticed  that  his  pard  seemed  to  have 
lost  his  usual  vivacity.  He  had  not  spoken  a  word  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour;  and  when  Si's  tongue  was  so  long 
quiet  there  must  be  something  out  of  gear. 

"Oh!  I'm  g-gettin'  'long  b-bully!"  replied  Si;  but  the 
slow  and  labored  utterance  did  not  quite  tally  with  his 
words. 


SI  SHOWS  SIGNS  OF  WILTING. 


15T 


Si  did  not  evince  a  disposition  to  continue  the  conversa- 
tion. He  appeared  to  have  other  uses  for  all  his  energies. 
He  noticed  many  of  his  companions  leaning  forward  to 
ease  their  burdens,  now  and  then  hitching  up  their  knap- 
sacks to  give  a  moment's  ease.  It  was  evident  that  a  feel- 
ing of  fatigue  was  already  pervading  the  regiment.  All' 
this  only  strengthened  Si's  pluck.  Whatever  anybody  else 
might  do  he  was  bound  to  peg  it  through  to  the  end, 
.  and    carry    every 

11  A  ^-—^  pound     he    had 

taken  upon  him- 
self. He  would 
get  used  to  it  di- 
rectly and  then  it 
would  be  e  a  s  3r 
enough. 

So  he  trudged 
bravely  on,  with 
teeth  firmly  set, 
and  the  grip  of  a 
vise  upon  the  butt 
of  his  musket. 
The  perspiration 
streamed  from  his 
nose  and  chin,  and 
flowed  in  tickling 
streams  down  his 
body  and  legs.  He 
was  ^varming  up 
to  his  work. 

"Sh-Short\^,  '  he  gasped,  as  he  reached  the  end  of  the 

second  mile,  "d-dont  they  give  a  feller  any  restin'  spells? 

Dad  used  ter  put  us  through  when  we  was  pitchin'  hay 

'n'  hoein'  corn,  but  he'd  let  us  b-blow  once  'n  a  while." 

*' Ye  ain't  platan'  out  a-read^-,  are  ye.  Si?" 

"No-sir-ee,  I  ain't,"  he  replied,  bracing  himself  up  by  a 


A  SERIOUS  MISCALCULATION. 


158  IN  THE  FENCE-CORNER. 

^eat  effort.  "I  c'n  go  it  all  day  'f  I  Aa/ter,  but  it  'd  be 
a  heap  easier  'f  I  c'd  jest  stop  a  minute  er  two  'n'  lay  in  a 
fresh  supply  o'  wind." 

''I'll  tell  ye  one  thing,  Si,  ye've  got  too  much  meat  on 
yer  bones  fer  a  fust-class  roadster.  Ye  know  bosses  can't 
i;ravel  when  they  're  fat,  'n'  I  reck'nit's  the  same  way  with 
soljers.  When  ye  gits  rejuced  twenty  er  thirty  pounds — 
.an'  'tw^on't  take  hard  marchin'  'n'  hard- tac^  long  ter  do  it 
— ^ye'll  git  over  the  ground  a  mighty  sight  better.  By  that 
time  ye  won't  be  luggin'  so  many  traps,  nuther.  'F  I  was 
jovi  I'd  begin  purty  quick  ter  git  shet  o'  some  on  'em !" 

But  Shorty's  advice  was  still  premature.  The  most 
careless  observer  could  have  seen  that  Si  was  slowly  but 
surely  approaching  the  point  when  the  exigencies  of  the 
service  would  overcome  his  sentimental  devotion  to  his 
"traps  and  calamities,  "  as  Shorty  flippantly  called  them, 
in  spite  of  mother  and  sister  and  Annabel. 

At  length  the  drum  gave  the  signal  for  a  halt.  With  a 
«igh  of  inexpressible  relief  the  weary,  panting  men  sank  to 
the  ground  by  the  roadside,  to  find  such  rest  as  they  might 
in  the  few  allotted  moments. 

Si  Kleggwas  more  nearly  exhausted  than  he  was  willing 
to  admit,  even  to  himself.  As  he  dropped  into  a  fence- 
corner,  trembling  in  every  nerve  and  fiber  of  limb  and  body, 
there  came  into  his  mind  the  fleeting  wish  that  his  load 
were  not  so  heavy. 

The  single  hour's  experience  on  the  road  had  served  to 
remove  the  scales  from  the  eyes  of  a  goodl^^  number  of  the 
members  of  Company  Q.  They  began  to  foresee  the  in- 
evitable, and  at  the  first  halt  they  made  a  small  beginning 
in  the  labor  of  getting  themselves  down  to  light  marching 
order — a  process  of  sacrifice  which  a  year  later  had  ac- 
complished its  perfect  v^ork,  w-hen  each  man  took  nothing 
in  the  way  of  baggage  save  what  he  could  roll  up  in  a 
blanket  and  toss  over  his  shoulder.  It  was  but  a  small 
beginning.      They   ''yanked"  open  their  knapsacks  and 


SI  LEARNS  SLOWLY.  159 

flung  away  a  book  or  an  album,  or  an  extra  garment, 
choosing  such  articles  as  could  best  be  spared.  The  sacri- 
fice was  not  made  without  a  twinge  of  regret,  for  all  had 
their  cherished  keepsakes — affection  s  gods,  that  they  well- 
nigh  worshiped  for  the  sake  of  the  loving  hands  that  fash- 
ioned them. 

Shorty  was  lean  in  flesh  and  in  baggage,  and  in  good 
shape  for  traveling.  Although  he  had  shared  in  the  gen- 
eral fatigue  and  was  glad  enough  to  rest  with  the  others, 
the  march  thus  far  was  to  him  but  a  pleasant  exercise  as 
compared  with  what  it  had  been  to  those  w^ho  staggered 
beneath  their  burdens.  While  the  reducing  process  was 
going  on  he  looked  at  Si  to  see  whether  he  was  yet  learn- 
ing the  wnsdom  that  in  time  came  to  every  soldier.  Some 
did  not  learn  it  as  soon  as  others. 

''  Goin'  ter  try  it  'nother  heat,  ar  ye  Si  ?  "  he  said,  observ- 
ing that  the  latter  gave  no  sign  of  casting  ofif  any  of  the 
^weight  that  encumbered  him. 

"Course  I  am,  '  he  replied,  cheerfully,  *'I  feel  's  fine  's  a 
fiddle  now  't  I've  rested  a  bit  n'  had  a  chance  ter  git  up 
steam.  'Tain't  goin  ter  be  so  hard  when  a  feller  gits  broke 
in!" 

''It's  the  break-in'  in  't  hurts,"  said  Shorty.  *'I  s'pose 
yeve  heern  tell  o"  the  hoss  t  was  fed  on  sawdust.  Jest  as 
he  was  gittin  used  to  it  he  up  'n'  died.  I  sh'd  be  sorry  ter 
have  it  work  that  way  with  you.  Si." 

At  the  call  the  soldiers  fell  in  and  resumed  the  march. 
Si  was  quick  to  obey,  feeling  greatly  refreshed  by  his  five 
minutes  of  rest.  He  started  off  very  courageously,  whis- 
tling "Columbia,  the  Gem  of  the  Ocean,"  and  keeping  time 
to  the  music.  But  he  did  not  whistle  a  great  while.  He 
did  not  feel  like  it,  much  as  he  tried  to  make  himself  think 
he  did.  Hotter  and  hotter  beat  down  the  sun's  ra^-s  as  it 
mounted  to  the  zenith.  In  streams  more  copious  flowed 
the  perspiration  that  oozed  from  every  pore.  The  air  was 
thick  with  dust  from  the  countless  feet  of  men  and  horses 


160  THE  MADDENING  BLISTERS. 

that  had  gone  before.  It  gathered  upon  Si's  face;  it  per- 
meated his  clothes  and  was  ground  into  the  skin  under  the 
straps  and  belts  that  bound  him.  At  every  step  his  knap- 
sack grew  heavier.  His  heated,  sweating  back  smarted 
under  the  pressure.  Lower  down  his  cartridge-box,  with 
its  leaden  load,  bobbed  up  and  down  with  every  footfall, 
chafing  and  grinding  until  that  particular  spot  felt  as  if 
in  contact  with  a  red-hot  iron.  His  canteen  and  haver- 
sack rubbed  the  skin  off  his  hips;  the  bunches  of  cartridges 
in  his  pockets  scraped  his  legs ;  and  his  musket  lay  like  a 
section  of  railroad  iron  upon  his  shoulder. 

Then  a  new  trouble  came  to  Si,  as  though  he  had  not 
enough  already.  He  was  young  and  tender — a  sort  of 
**  spring  chicken,"  so  to  speak.  There  was  a  sharp,  smart- 
ing sensation  at  different  points  on  his  feet;  it  did  not 
take  long  to  blister  such  soft  feet  as  he  had.  They  felt  as 
if  somebody  had  poured  scalding  water  on  them,  and  was 
rubbing  on  salt  and  pepper  and  horse-radish,  varying  the 
treatment  by  thrusting  in  a  dozen  needles.  What  a  keen, 
maddening  pain  it  was !  How  it  thrilled  every  nerve,  as^ 
the  rough  shoes  tore  off  the  tender  skin ;  and  the  great 
load  of  knapsack  and  cartridge-box  and  gun  pressing  the 
needles  farther  in  at  every  step ! 

There  are  not  many  things  in  this  world  of  sorrow  more 
utterly  and  wildl^^  exasperating  than  tramping  with  blis- 
tered feet  on  a  hot  da}^  carrying  a  big  knapsack.  A  blister 
is  not  always  as  large  as  a  barn-door,  but  for  stirring  up 
all  the  latent  depravity  of  a  boy's  heart,  it  has  few  suc- 
cessful rivals. 

Si  began  to  limp,  and,  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  prevent 
it,  an  expression  of  pain  now  and  then  escaped  his  lips. 
Still  he  kept  up  in  his  place,  strong  in  his  determination 
not  to  straggle.  His  efforts  may  have  been  somewhat 
stimulated  by  a  blood-curdling  rumor,  which  started  at 
one  end  of  the  regiment  and  quickly  ran  its  entire  length, 
that  a  body  of  rebel  cavalry  was  following  leisurely  along 


COMES  TO  IT  AT  LAST.  161 

at  the  tail  of  the  column,  massacring  all  the  stragglers. 
But  the  tax  that  he  had  imposed  upon  his  physical  forces 
was  too  great.  The  spirit  indeed  was  willing  but  the  flesh 
was  weak. 

''Shorty,"  he  said  to  his  comrade,  ''I  wonder  how  fur 
we've  got  ter  hoof  it  to-day;  did  ye  hear?" 

''Some  o'  the  ossifers  wassayin'  this  mornin'  we'd  have 
ter  make  twenty  mile  'fore  we'd  camp,  'n'  v^e  mout  have 
ter  keep  right  on  all  night." 

"Seems  ter  me,"  said  Si,  groaning  inwardly  at  the  pros- 
pect, "we've  traveled  much  's  twenty  mile  a-ready,  hain't 
we?" 

"Skurcely," replied  Shorty.  "I'm  sorry  fer  ye, pard,  but 
we  hain't  come  more  'n  five  er  six  mile  yit." 

Shorty  saw  that  Si  was  rapidly  approaching  the  point 
where  he  would  break  down.  His  sympathies  were  aroused 
in  his  comrade's  behalf 

"Si,"  he  said,  "lemme  carry  yer  gun  a  piece ;  that'll  ease 
ye  up  a  leetle  bit ! ' ' 

"'Bleegedto  ye.  Shorty"  he  replied,  "but  I  guess  I  c'n 
pull  through.    Ye've  got  all  ye  want  ter  tote." 

But  when  Shorty  reached  up  and  relieved  him  of  his 
musket  he  yielded  without  objection.  At  the  next  halt  Si 
told  Shorty  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  take  his  ad- 
vice and  lighten  his  load. 

"I  knew  ye'd  have  ter  come  to  it,"  said  Short}^  "  'cause 
ye  ain't  no  mule  'n'  ye  can't  stand  it.  There's  lots  o'  them 
things  3^e  don't  need,  'n'  ye'll  git  'long  a  heap  better  'thout 
'em  when  ye're  marchin'.  I  know  ye  hate  ter  fling  'em 
away,  'n'  I  think  all  the  more  of  ye  'cause  ye've  got  sich 
feelin's,  but  if  yer  mother  'n'  yer  sister 'n'  all  the  rest  on  'em 
had  knowed  how  it  'd  be  they  wouldn't  ha'  guv  'em  to  ye 
to  load  ye  down.    It's  got  ter  be  did,  Si." 

Shorty's  logic  was  unanswerable.  Si's  blistered  feet  and 
aching  limbs  and  smarting  shoulders  told  him,  even  more 
plainly  than  his  comrade's  words,  that  the  sacrifice  was 


162 


SENTIMENT  AT  A  DISCOUNT. 


inevitable.  He  first  tossed  his  hatchet  over  the  fence. 
Then  his  clothes-brush  and  shoe-brush  went ;  true  they  did 
not  weigh  much,  but  every  ounce  would  help.  His  frying- 
pan  and  coffee-pot  he  decided  to  be  necessities.  Opening 
his  knapsack  he  held  a  melancholy  inquest  upon  its  con- 
tents. The  hymn-book  he  speedily  disposed  of  without 
carrying  out  his  intention  of  bestowicg  it  upon  a  wicked 
cavalryman.    The  * '  Pilgrim's  Progress ' '  quickly  followed. 

It  was  as  much  as  he 
could  do  to  look  after 
his  own   progress  as 
a  pilgrim.     He  threw 
away    the    cakes    of 
fancy   soap    and    his 
sister's     pin -cushion, 
after  sticking   half  a 
dozen     pins     in     his 
blouse.     He    discard- 
ed    the     photogrtiph 
first     taking 
pictures  and 
them    in    his 
Some  of  the 
articles  of  cloth- 
he     flung     upon 


album, 
out  the 
putting 
pocket, 
nice 
ing 
1^  the  •  ground.  As  the 
weather  was  then,  he 
did  not  feel  that  he 
w^ould  ever  want 
them .  He  looked  at  his  big  roll  of  blankets  and  decided  that 
an  advantageous  reduction  could  there  be  made.  His  first 
plan  was  to  abandon  his  blankets  and  keep  the  pretty  quilt 
he  had  brought  from  home. 

'^Don't  do  that,"  said  Shorty.  '' Ye'll  be  sorry  'f  ye  do. 
Ther'  ain't  nothin'  so  good  's  an  army  blanket.  I  know  ye 
don't  like  to  heave  away  that  quilt,  but  you  jest  let  'er  slide. ' ' 


THE   SHRINKAGE   BEGINS. 


GATHERING  UP  THE  DEBRIS.  163 

SI  was  coming  to  have  a  good  deal  of  confidence  in 
Shorty's  judgment,  and  it  was  settled  that  the  broad  ex- 
panse of  beautiful  patchwork,  on  which  his  mother  had 
spent  so  many  hours  of  toil,  would  have  to  go. 

People  who  lived  along  the  line  of  march  followed  the 
moving  army  for  miles,  gathering  up  the  things  that  the 
new   soldiers  threw  away.    Men,    women    and  children 
loaded  themselves  with  quilts,   clothing  and  articles  of 
every  description.     A  happy  thought  entered  Si's  head. 
Drawing  out  the  big  knife  that  his  Sunday  school  teacher 
gave  him,  he  began  to  slash  the  quilt  into  strips. 
''What  ye  up  ter  now ?  "  asked  Shorty  in  surprise. 
''I  tell  ye  what  'tis.  Shorty,"  was  the  reply,  ''ef  I  can't 
have  any  good  o'  this  kiver  ther'  ain't  no  secesh  goin'  ter 
sleep  under  it,"  and  he  continued  the  work  of  destruction. 
By  the  same  process  the  home  blanket  was  disposed  of. 
Shorty  told  him  to  keep  only  his  overcoat  and  the  blanket 
furnished  him  by  the  quartermaster,  and  he  concluded  that 
Shorty  knew  better  than  he  did. 

Si  had  learned  his  first  practical  lesson  in  making  him- 
self a  soldier.  It  had  come  to  him  through  much  pain  and 
tribulation.  Two  or  three  million  other  men  were  taught 
by  the  same  educator— Experience.  Precepts  and  theories 
went  for  naught.  The  shrinkage  of  the  knapsack  was  the 
first  symptom  of  the  transformation  that  changed  the  raw 
recruit  into  an  effective  soldier,  ready  at  any  moment  for 
a  fight  or  a  foot-race. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

S)  Finishes  the  Day's  March,  Nurses  his  Blisters,  and  is  Detailed 
TO  Help  put  up  the  Colonel's  Temt. 

AT  the  call  to  resume  the  march  Si  jumped  nimbly  ta 
his  feet,  notwithstanding  the  general  stiffness  of  his 
joints  and  the  large  and  varied  assortment  of  aches  and 
pains  that  darted  and  dodged  through  every  part  of  him. 
With  renewed  confidence  he  slung  his  knapsack,  which  had 
been  very  materially  lightened.  But  it  was  a  big  knap- 
sack yet,  and  destined  to  be  flattened  a  good  deal  more  in 
the  near  future.  It  was  not  clear  to  Si  how  any  further 
reduction  was  possible;  and  indeed,  as  he  started  off  again 
he  experienced  such  relief  that  not  a  lingering  doubt  re- 
mained in  his  mind  that  he  could  now  go  as  far  and  as  fast 
as  any  man  in  the  army. 

The  blisters  on  his  feet,  which  at  once  became  lively,  were 
his  greatest  cause  of  grief.  The  old  ones  remained  as  vig- 
orous as  ever,  and  new  ones  were  constantly  forming  on 
sole  and  toe  and  ankle. 

''Ouch!" 

This  was  the  laconic  observation  that  Si  involuntarily 
made  every  now  and  then,  in  a  voice  of  agony.  Whenever 
he  said  this  his  companions  in  misery  knew  that  another 
blister  had  ''busted,"  as  they  expressed  it.  How  his 
nerves  tingled  with  the  sharp  pain ! 

But  on  and  on  tramps  the  remorseless  column.     The 

army  cannot  pause  for  aching  limbs  to  rest  and  blistered 

feet  to  heal. 

164 


si's  mental  processes.  165 

The  knapsack  bears  down  again  upon  Si's  chafed  and 
smarting  shoulders.  It  seems  heavier  than  before,  and 
with  each  mile  grows  heavier  still.  How  glad  he  would 
be  if  he  could  pitch  it  into  a  fence  corner  and  leave  it  there. 
He  wonders  if  he  could  possibly  get  along  without  it. 
But  no,  this  cannot  be  seriously  thought  of— at  least  not 
yet.  So  he  braces  himself  up  and  plods  along  his  weary 
way.  Thoughts  of  home — he  can't  help  it— that  he  left 
scarcely  more  than  a  week  ago  flit  through  his  mind. 
Mother,  father,  sister— and  Annabel,  he  knows  they  are 
all  thinking  and  talking  about  him  and  wondering  how 
he  fares.  How  glad  he  is  that  they  cannot  see  him  now. 
How  their  hearts  would  bleed  for  him  if  they  knew. 

But  Si  was  not  going  to  be  one  of  the  many  poor  boys 
who  actually  died  in  the  army  from  ' '  homesickness . ' '  Dash- 
ing the  sleeve  of  his  blouse  across  his  eyes  to  brush  away 
—perhaps  it  \vasonly  perspiration,  he  banished  the  haunt- 
ing thoughts. 

"Now,  Si,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  trudged  on,  ''ye 
ain't  goin'  ter  make  a  fool  o'  yerself.  It  'd  be  jest  heaven 
'f  ye  c'd  lie  down  with  yer  head  on  yer  mother's  knee,  'n' 
have  her  soft  handstrokin'  yer  hair,  but  ye  can'thave  that 
now  'n'  ther'  ain't  no  use  worryin'  ^^erself  'bout  it.  Ye're 
goin'  ter  be  a  soljer,  'n'  a  good  'un'  too,  but  ye  want  ter 
fergit  fer  a  while 't  ye've  got  any  mother  'n'  sister.  Thar's 
Shorty,  he's  glad  'cause  he  hain't  got  nobody,  'n'  I  d'know 
but  he's  purty  nigh  right.  Anyhow  ye've  got  jest  all  ye 
c'n  think  'bout  'n'  'tend  to  now.  It's  a  mighty  sight 
harder  'n  ye  thought,  but  ye're  goin'  ter  stick  to  it.  Si,  'n' 
be  a  man  't  yer  folks  won't  be  'shamed  of." 

How  slowly  the  hours  dragged,  and  how  long  were  the 
last  few  miles  !  Hundreds  of  the  new  soldiers  dropped  by 
the  roadside,  utterly  unable  to  keep  their  places  in  the  col- 
umn that  swept  on  and  left  them.  Many  who  in  the  morn- 
ing were  in  the  flush  of  strength  and  vigor,  lay  panting 
and  exhausted  upon  the  ground.    At  every  stream  and 


166 


AT  THE  SPRING. 


Spring  the  men  crowded  one  another  for  the  blessed  priv- 
ilege of  bathing  their  smarting  feet,  and  filling  their  can- 
teens. Strict  orders,  with  the  most  severe  pains  and  pen- 
alties, had  been  given  against  straggling;  but  obedience 
was  not  within  the  bounds  of  human  possibility.    The 


THE  RUSH   FOR   WATER. 


rear-guard,  with  fixed  bayonets,  sought  to  force  onv^^ard 
those  who  had  fallen  by  the  way.  Some,  at  sight  of  the 
cruel  steel,  got  upon  their  feet  and  hobbled  painfully  on, 
but  to  many  it  seemed  that  even  death,  in  the  face  of  their 
sufferings,  had  no  terrors.  The  ambulances  were  full  to 
overflowing  of  worn  and  wretched  men.    The  few  wagons 


AFTER  THE  MARCH.  167 

that  accompanied  the  troops  were  heaped  with  knapsacks 
and  muskets,  of  which  the  soldiers  had  been  permitted  by 
the  surgeons  to  relieve  themselves.  The  clothing  of  the 
men  was  white  with  dust,  and  saturated  with  the  moisture 
from  their  sw^eating  bodies. 

Si  was  determined  to  keep  with  the  colors,  and  he  did ; 
but  he  was  profoundly  thankful  when  the  200th  Indiana, 
with  scarcely  half  its  men  in  ranks,  filed  into  a  field  to 
bivouac  for  the  night.  If  all  the  haying  and  harvesting 
and  corn-hoeing  and  wood-chopping  that  he  had  ever  done 
in  a  whole  year,  could  have  been  compressed  into  the  hours 
of  a  single  day,  he  could  not  have  been  more  completely 
*'used  up"  than  he  was  when  the  regiment  stacked  arms 
and  received  the  welcome  order  to  "break  ranks."  When 
he  unslung  his  knapsack  and  let  it  fall  to  the  ground,  it 
was  like  getting  out  from  under  a  mountain.  And  what 
a  relief  it  was  to  lay  off  cartridge-box,  haversack  and  can- 
teen !  Who  that  has  not  experienced  it  can  know  the  rest- 
ful feeling  that  came  to  limb  and  body,  as  he  unfastened 
the  strap  and  flung  down  the  last  of  his  acoouterments ! 
What  an  unspeakable  luxury  to  take  off  his  shoes  and 
throw  himself  upon  the  ground.  No  bed  of  softest  down 
was  ever  half  so  welcome.  Si  began  to  wish  that  he  had 
•enlisted  in  a  cavalry  regiment,  so  that  he  could  ride. 

Shorty,  for  the  good  and  sufficient  reasons  already  given, 
stood  the  march  better  than  most  of  his  companions.  He 
was,  however,  by  no  means  free  from  aches  and  blisters^, 
though  his  feet  had  more  skin  left  on  them  than  Si's  had. 
It  was  sii.  ply  the  difference  between  carrying  a  big  knap- 
sack and  one  that  wasn't  so  big. 

After  they  had  rested  a  little  time.  Shorty  suggested 
that  they  go  to  the  stream  near  by  and  bathe  their  feet. 
*'It'll  be  the  best  kind  o'  medicine  fer  'em,"  he  said. 

"That's  a  good  idee!  "  said  Si,  "but  I'm  afeard  I  can't 
git  down  thar.  I  jest  feel  's  though  I  couldn't  budge  an 
inch.    I'm   's  sore  all  over  's  if  I'd  been  run  through  a 


168 


A  SOVEREIGN  BALM. 


thrashin'  machine.  I  don't  b'lieve  I  could  'a'  gone  'nother 
mile  ter  save  mj  life." 

**I'm  purty  much  that  way  myself,"  replied  Shorty,  "  'n* 
I  know  you  feel  a  good  deal  w^uss  ner  I  do ;  but  I  tell  ye 
ther'  ain't  nothin'  like  water  ter  bring  us  'round.  Try  'n' 
limber  up." 

After  painful  effort  Si  managed  to  get  himself  up  ''on 
end."     Taking  their  shoes  in  their  hands  and  treading 

•    ^>^^\    ^^    ^     .        —        ^^g^^lj'  they  slowly 
^  ^  ^-  made  their  way  to  the 

creek.  The  banks  w^ere 
lined  with  soldiers  en- 
joying the  reviving  in- 
fluence of  the  water. 
Si  and  Shorty  slipped 
off  their  trousers,  and 
oh,  how  delicious  the 
cooling  water  felt  to 
their  chafed  limbs  and 
smarting  feet  !  They 
had  but  fairly  begun 
to  enjoy  it  w^hen  the 
ominous  voice  of  the 
orderly  fell  upon  Si's 
unwilling  ears. 

The  orderly  sergeant 
in  the  army  was  gen- 
erally regarded  by  the 
other  non-commissioned  officers  and   the  privates  as  a 
necessary  evil,  but  none  the  less  a  palpable  and  unmiti- 
gated nuisance.* 
Next  below  the  grade  of  a  commissioned  officer,  he  out- 

*  This  is  not,  to  the  writer,  an  abstract  theory.  For  a  3'ear  his  arms 
were  decorated  with  the  chevrons  of  a  first  sergeant,  composed  of  three 
Y  stripes  and  a  diamond,  and  he  speaks  from  personal  knowledge  gained 
bj  abundant  experience. 


AFTER   A  DAY'S  TRAMP. 


THE  ORDERLY  SERGEANT.  169 

ranked  all  the  rest  of  the  enlisted  men,  so  that  his  author- 
ity—unless in  its  exercise  he  transcended  his  legitimate 
functions— could  not  be  called  in  question.  Bj^  his  superiors 
he  was  held  directly  responsible  at  all  times  for  the  condi- 
tion of  his  company  and  the  whereabouts  of  its  members. 
All  must  be  ''present  or  accounted  for."  It  was  his  busi- 
ness to  see  that  all  orders  were  duly  enforced  and  obeyed, 
to  draw  and  issue  to  his  company  supplies  of  rations, 
clothing  and  ammunition,  to  see  that  the  men  kept  their 
persons  and  their  clothing  clean,  and  their  arms  and  tents 
— when  they  had  any— in  good  condition,  and  to  make  all 
details  for  fatigue,  guard  and  other  dut^^;  besides  number- 
less minor  things  that  no  one  can  understand  or  appreciate 
except  those  who  have  served  in  that  thankless  and  exas- 
perating position. 

It  was  impossible  to  do  all  this  without  more  or  less 
friction — generally  more.  There  were  many  very  brave 
and  in  every  way  excellent  soldiers  who  were  not  the  em- 
bodiment of  all  the  Christian  virtues.  Indeed,  it  may  be 
safely  said  that  the  ''old  Adam  "  theory  of  the  theologians 
found  more  ample  illustration  in  the  arm}^  than  in  any 
other  sphere  of  active  life.  The  circumstances  were  not 
favorable  to  the  development  of  gentleness,  meekness,  pa- 
tience, long-suffering  and  the  other  beautiful  adornments 
of  human  character.  Exception  may  perhaps  be  taken  by 
some  of  the  veterans  to  the  last  of  the  attributes  men- 
tioned, for  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  was  plenty 
of  "long  suffering,"  if  the  words  be  given  a  literal  inter- 
pretation. 

Upon  the  head  of  the  orderly  was  poured  a  great  deal 
more  than  his  share  of  profanity.  Scarcely  a  day 
passed  that  he  was  not  deluged  with  it.  If  anything  went 
wrong  with  the  company  he  caught  "Hail  Columbia  "  from 
the  officers.  Wh^n  enforcing  discipline  and  making  de- 
tails of  men  for  duty,  particularly  after  fatiguing  marches 
or  on  rainy  days,  he  rarely  failed  to  provoke  the  wrath 


170  THE  UNIVERSAL  SCAPEGOAT. 

of  those  whose  ''turn"  it  happened  to  be.  The  curses  and 
maledictions  were  not  always  loud,  for  prudential  reasons, 
but  they  were  deep  and  fervent.  The  longer  the  men  re- 
mained in  service  the  more  fluent  they  became  in  the  use 
of  pungent  words,  making  it  warmer  and  warmer  for 
the  orderly.  Swearing  at  him  was  the  sovereign  balm 
for  the  soldier's  woes.  When  the  hardtack  was  wormy, 
or  the  bacon  maggoty,  or  the  bean-soup  too  weak,  or 
rations  scanty ;  when  the  weather  was  too  hot  or  too 
cold,  or  it  rained,  or  the  compan^^  had  to  go  on  picket  after 
a  hard  day's  tramp,  or  any  fatigue  duty  had  to  be  done ; 
when  the  buttons  flew  off  their  clothes  and  seams  ripped 
the  first  time  they  Tvereworn,  or  the  shapeless  ''gunboats" 
scraped  the  skin  from  their  feet;  when  the  company  had 
to  turn  out  for  drill,  with  the  mercury  in  the  nineties,  and 
swelter  and  charge  around  capturing  imaginary  batteries 
— for  all  these  and  much  more  the  persecuted  orderly  was 
to  blame.  He  was  ground  to  powder  between  the  upper 
and  nether  millstones— the  officers  and  the  men.  His  life 
was  a  continual  martyrdom. 

Then  he  w^as  expected  to  be,  himself,  in  every  way,  an 
example  to  the  men  worthy  of  their  imitation — a  pattern 
of  soldierly  perfection,  in  his  bearing,  his  person,  and  "all 
appurtenances  thereunto  belonging,"  as  the  lawyers  say. 
The  only  redeeming  feature  in  the  orderly's  wretched  ex- 
istence was  that  he  did  not  have  to  detail  himself  to  go 
on  guard  or  chop  wood  or  load  the  colonel's  wagon. 
From  these  the  ''Regulations"  exempted  him. 
.»  "Hey,  there,  Mr.  Klegg!"  shouted  the  orderly  of  Com- 
pany Q. 

The  orderlies  addressed  the  men  as  "Mister"  at  first,  but 
they  soon  got  over  that. 

"Hello!"  replied  Si,  "what  d'  ye  want  o'  me?" 

"Report    immejitly    fer    fatigue    duty.       Go    to    head- 
quarters an'  help  put  up  the  colonel's  tent.    Hurry  on  witk 


IT  WAS    "PURTY  TOUGH.'*  171 

ycr  duds  an'  be  lively,  'cause  the  colonel's  waitin',  an'  he'll 
Stan'  ye  on  yer  head  if  ye  don't  come  to  time !" 

Si's  first  thought  was  to  make  another  issue  on  the  ques- 
tion of  his  "turn."  He  was  sure  that  all  whose  names 
preceded  his  on  the  roll  had  not  been  detailed  for  fatigue 
duty.  He  wondered  if  he  was  to  suffer  still  further  pun- 
ishment for  his  part  in  the  conspiracy  to  have  the  orderly 
tossed  in  a  blanket.  Remembering  his  former  experience 
he  said  nothing,  but  he  "chalked  it  down  "  in  his  memory 
for  future  use. 

"That's  purty  tough,  ain't  it  Shorty?"  said  Si,  as  he 
sadly  drew  his  feet  out  of  the  water  and  began  to  put  on 
his  trousers.  "'Tween  you  'n'  me,  I  think  it  's  mighty 
mean,  too.  The  colonel  rid  a  hoss  all  day  while  we  was 
a-trampin',  'n'  't  seems  ter  me  's  if  he  mout  put  up  his 
own  tent.  He's  got  a  nigger  ter  help  him,  too.  Ef  I  was 
colonel  o'  this  'ere  rijiment  I  bet  ye  I  wouldn't  make  none 
o'  the  soljers  that  hain't  got  no  skin  left  on  their  feet,  put 
up  my  tent.  I  wish  't  I  was  colonel  'n'  he  was  Si  Klegg 
fer  jest  one  day  so  he  c'd  know  how  't  feels." 

"Growlin'  don't  do  no  good,"  replied  his  comrade. 
"The  ossifers  'n'  the  orderlies  has  all  the  trump  keerds  'n' 
they  takes  the  trick  every  time.  Better  let  me  go  'n  yer 
place.  Si.  I  ain't  used  up  's  bad  's  you.  I'll  be  glad  ter  do 
it  fer  ye." 

"It's  reel  kind  of  ye,  Shorty,  but  I'll  do  it  ef  I  c'n  make 
the  riffle.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  shirk  nothin'  's  long  's  I  c'n 
Stan'  up.  Ef  I  can't  I  can't,  'n'  that's  the  end  on  't.  But 
I  sh'd  think  the  colonel  mout  git  'long  'thout  any  tent. 
The  rest  on  us  has  ter,  'n'  I  don't  see  how  he's  any  better 
'n  we  are,  jest  'cause  he's  got  shoulder-straps  'n'  we  hain't !" 

The  subtle  questions  of  distinction  between  carrying  a 
sword  or  a  musket,  between  commanding  and  being  com- 
manded, were  too  much  for  Si's  philosophy.  Nor  was 
tiiere  time  to  pursue  the  discussion.  Two  minutes  had 
sufficed  for  putting  on  his  clothes  and  shoes,  though  the 


172  THE  VALUE  OF  A    "PARD." 

latter  caused  him  much  pain  and  still  further  ruffled  his 
temper. 

At  headquarters  Si  found  half  a  dozen  men  who 
had  been  detailed  from  other  companies  for  the  work  in 
question.  All  were  in  a  similar  condition  as  to  their  feet 
and  limbs ;  and  judging  from  the  emphatic  observations 
that  fell  from  their  lips,  there  was  no  dissent  from  the 
views  Si  had  expressed  to  Shorty.  They  had  not  yet 
learned  the  "knack"  of  pitching  a  tent,  and  not  till  after 
repeated  trials,  under  the  pressure  of  pointed  rebukes  from 
the  colonel  for  their  awkwardness,  did  they  get  it  up  to 
suit  him. 

Fortunately,  Shorty's  information  that  the  march  might 
have  to  be  continued  through  the  night,  proved  to  be  in- 
correct. The  tired  soldiers  were  directed  to  make  them- 
selves as  comfortable  as  possible,  but  to  be  ready  to  move 
at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning.  When  Si  got  back  to  his 
company  he  found  that  his  faithful  friend  had  kindled  a 
fire,  upon  which  the  coffee  was  already  boiling  and  the 
bacon  sizzling  in  a  manner  most  gratifying  to  one  as  hungry 
as  he.  During  the  day  there  had  been  no  halt  for  coffee. 
The  gnawings  of  hunger  had  only  been  partially  appeased 
by  an  occasional  nibble  at  the  flinty  hardtack.  As  Si 
limped  down  from  the  colonel's  tent  he  had  been  wonder- 
ing how  he  would  manage  about  the  supper,  and  he  was 
delighted  at  Shorty's  prompt  and  efficient  services.  The 
grateful  odor  of  the  steaming  coffee  did  much  to  revive  his 
drooping  spirits. 

** Shorty,"  he  said,  "I  think  I  was  mighty  lucky  to  git 
such  a  good  pardner  's  you  be.  I  never  knowed  ye  til  ye 
jined  the  company,  'n'  when  I  fust  seen  ye  I  'lowed  ye 
wa'n't  much  'count  nohow.  I  thought  ye'd  be  the  last 
man  I'd  ever  want  ter  tie  to.  But  now  I  v^ouldn't  swap 
ye  off  fer  any  man  'n  the  hull  rijiment." 

"Ye  can't  most  always  tell  'bout  folks  f m  what  ye  see 
on  the  outside,"  replied  Shorty.     ''I  couldn't  tell  ye  how 


LAST  OF  THE  RECRUITING  OFFICER.  173 

'twas  'f  I  sh'd  try,  but  somehow  I  kind  o'  took  to  ye.  Si. 
f*m  the  start,  'n'  's  long  's  ye  keep  on  the  way  ye've  begun, 
I'll  stick  by  ye.  I  never  had  much  bringin'  up,  'n'  I've 
knocked  round  fer  myself  ever  sence  I  was  a  Httle  shaver, 
but  I've  got  some  feelin's,  'n'  it  does  me  good  ter  have 
somebody  to  think  'bout  n'  do  suthin'  fer  wheal  kin.  But 
the  coffee  's  done  'n'  this  ere  pig-meat  's  fried  'nough ;  let's 
eat." 

The  ties  that  bound  near  comrades  and  associates  in  the 
army  were  more  than  those  of  friendship.  In  constant 
companionship,  bearing  one  another's  burdens  and  shar- 
ing the  toil  and  danger  and  suffering  and  the  hard-earned 
glory  of  a  soldier's  life,  their  hearts  vsrere  drawn  together 
by  a  feeling  that  can  find  a  parallel  only  in  the  tenderest 
relations  of  life.  These  cords  were  fast  tightening  around 
Si  and  Shorty.  Si's  innocence,  frank  good-nature  and 
cheery  chatter  had  completely  captured  his  comrade,  and 
thawed  out  the  heart  that  lay  beneath  his  forbidding  ex- 
terior. Shorty's  repeated  kindnesses  had  won  Si's  ardent 
affections,  and  his  hard  sense  and  helpful,  practical  ways 
were  just  what  was  needed  by  one  who  had  had  so  little 
experience  with  the  world  as  his  ^^oung  companion. 

''Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  they  spread  down  their  blankets, 
"that   'cruitin'   ossifer  kind  o'  fooled  the  boys  when  he 
blowed  so  much  'bout  Comp'ny  Q  havin'  sich  a  soft  thing, 
didn't  he?" 
**He  did  so— them  as  b'lieved  it." 

"I  didn't  take  no  stock  in  't,"  Si  continued,  "fer  I  wasn't 
lookin'  fer  no  soft  snap,  anyway.  Ijined  the  army  with 
the  idee  o'  seein'  the  elephant." 

"Purty  good-sized  animile,  ain't  he.  Si?"  said  Shorty 
with  a  laugh. 

"Wall— yes— 'n'  gittin'  bigger  all  the  time ;  but  I'm  goin' 
ter  have  a  good  squar'  look  at  him.  I'd  jest  like  ter  seen 
that  feller  't  'listed  us  humpin'  'long  'th  this  rijiment* 
What  ever  become  on  'im,  Shorty?  " 


174  WOLVES  IN  sheep's  clothing. 

**0h,  he  didn't  never  'low  to  do  any  soljerin'.  His  pa- 
trit  ism — 1  b'iieve  that's  what  they  calls  it — swelled  up  so 
big  that  it  busted.  When  he  got  his  comp'ny  raised  he 
sold  us  to  the  man  't  's  our  capt'n.  Ef  I'm  any  jedge 
Cap.  's  wuth  a  dozen  like  t'other  chap !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
Which  Illustrates  the  Depravity  of  the  Veteran  Soldiers. 

FAR  into  the  night  the  weary  stragglers,  by  ones  and 
twos,  dragged  themselves  into  camp,  inquiring  the 
whereabouts  of  the  200th  Indiana.  Suffering  in  body, 
discouraged  and  sick  at  heart,  they  flung  themselves  upo» 
the  ground  with  no  thought  of  anything  but  rest.  Their 
needs  were  supplied  by  kind-hearted  comrades  who  had 
been  more  fortunate  in  enduring  the  fatigue  of  the  day. 
The  doctors  found  plenty  of  work  in  administering  reviv- 
ing cordials,  and  applying  soothing  emollients  to  blistered 
feet  and  stiffened  limbs.  Gradually  the  fires  of  the  greal 
bivouac  burned  low  as  the  soldiers  lay  down  to  sleep. 
The  hum  and  bustle  grew  quiet,  and  the  mantle  of  night 
spread  over  the  sleeping  army. 

This  was  the  time  for  the  wicked  veterans  to  make  their 
predatory  forays  upon  the  new  troops.  A  year  of  hard 
campaigning  had  made  sad  havoc  with  the  clothing  of 
the  old  soldiers.  Many  of  them  had  no  blankets  or  over- 
coats. Such  of  these  necessary  articles  as  still  remained 
were  much  the  worse  for  the  service  they  had  seen.  They 
had  not  stood  it  as  v^ell  as  the  men.  They  were  worn  and 
tattered,  blackened  by  the  smoke  and  burned  by  the  sparks 
of  many  a  camp-fire.  The  elaborate  outfit  of  the  raw  sol- 
diers afforded  an  opportunity  that  could  not  be  permitted 


RAIDING  THE  HOOSIERS.  176 

to  pass  unimproved.  The  march  of  twenty  miles,  that 
had  so  nearly  used  up  the  200th  Indiana,  had  been  noth- 
ing to  the  veterans,  with  their  light  burdens  and  nimble, 
hardened  feet.  With  laugh  and  jest  and  song  they  had 
made  their  coffee,  toasted  their  bacon  and  munched  their 
hard-tack,  and  then  smoked  and  spun  yarns  as  they 
squatted  around  the  fires,  in  the  happy-go-lucky  style  that 
characterized  the  seasoned  soldiers.  Some  of  them  .were 
so  kind  of  heart  as  to  go  over  to  the  bivouac  of  the  aching, 
smarting,  groaning  and  grumbling  Indianians  and  proffer 
their  advice  and  personal  services  in  preparing  supper  and 
making  such  arrangements  for  comfort  as  the  circum- 
stances w^ould  permit.  Their  ministrations  were  most 
gratefully  received  by  the  sufferers,  who  had  not  the  faint- 
est conception  of  the  real  errand  of  these  good  Samari- 
tans. This  was  to  reconnoiter  and  determine  the  most 
promising  place  to  strike — after  a  deep  sleep  should  have 
fallen  upon  those  unsuspecting  Hoosiers— to  replenish  their 
wasted  stock  of  overcoats  and  blankets.  The  men  of  the 
200th  Indiana  warmly  thanked  the  veterans  for  their 
timely  assistance.  The  latter,  while  cherishing  their  dia- 
bolical schemes  of  plunder,  assured  their  neighbors  that 
they  were  heartily  welcome.  They  had  been  there  them- 
selves, and  knew  just  how  it  felt  to  be  ''played  out." 

Tw^o  hours  later,  when  the  fires  had  burned  to  smolder- 
ing embers,  dark  forms  glided  noiselessly  about  among 
the  prostrate  soldiers  of  the  200th.  Here  an  overcoat 
was  adiroitly  prigged  from  under  the  head  of  a  sleeper, 
and  there  a  blanket  was  gently  drawm  from  the  forms  it 
covered.  The  men  generally  slept  by  tw^os,  spreading  one 
blanket  upon  the  ground  and  the  other  over  them.  Fortu- 
nate was  he  who  had  no  ''pard,"  and  wrapped  himself  in 
his  solitary  blanket,  lying  upon  part  of  it  and  covering 
himself  with  the  rest.  For  obvious  reasons  he  was  safe 
from  the  operations  of  the  raiders .  Sometimes  the  prowder 
would  leave  in  place  of  the  article  taken  one  that  had  been 


176 


A  soldier's  conscience. 


battered  by  storms  and  burned  full  of  holes,  quieting  hi& 
conscience — if  lie  had  any— with  the  recognized  commer- 
cial axiom  that  ''  an  even  exchange  is  no  robbery,"  or  the 
more  flexible  one  that  ''all  is  fair  in  war."  True,  it  re- 
quired a  stretch  of  imagination  to  consider  the  exchange 
an  even  one,  but  the  veteran  was  not  accustomed  to  split 
hairs  in  such  trifling  matters.  If  he  had  none  to  leave  in 
exchange  he  simply  walked  off  with  his  plunder,  leav- 
ing to  be  settled 
hereafter  whatever 
moral  questions 
might  be  involved. 
To  take  care  of 
number  one  was  a 
cardinal  principle  in 
the  mind  of  the  old 
soldier.  If  it  now 
and  then  ran  foul  of 
the  decalogue,  the 
latter  had  to  give 
w^a}'.  A  few  of  the 
Hoosiers  had  strug- 
gled through  with 
extra  blankets  or 
quilts  brought  from 

FLEECING  THE  LAMBS.  homC.     luSUchcaSCS 

one  of  them  was  taken  without  compunction.  It  was  not 
considered  fair  for  one  soldier  to  have  two  \vhile  another 
had  none;  and  besides,  it  was  a  blessing  to  him  to  relieve 
him  of  part  of  his  burden. 

Si  and  Shorty  did  not  escape  the  doom  that  befell  so 
many  of  their  comrades.  They  slept  so  soundl}^  that  they 
knew  nothing  of  the  midnight  raid  that  left  them  with- 
out a  blanket  save  that  upon  which  thej^  lay.  The  dew 
fell  heavily  upon  their  garments  that  were  still  damp  from 

The  night  air  chilled  them  to- 


the  perspiration  of  the  da  v. 


THEY  MISSED  SOMETHING.  177 

the  very  marrow.  Si  at  length  awoke,  with  teeth  chatter- 
ing, and  shivering  in  every  hmb. 

''Hello,  there,  Shorty,"  he  exclaimed,  poking  him  with 
his  elbow,  "ye've  pulled  all  the  blanket  off  'n'  I'm  purty 
nigh  friz.  Ef  ye  don't  quit  doin'  that  I'll  ketch  my  death 
cold.    Ugh  !  "   and  Si  shook  till  his  bones  fairly  rattled. 

"I  hain't  got  no  kiver,  nuther,"  replied  Shorty,  as  he 
roused  up  with  a  shiver.  "Whar  is  the  pesky  thing,  any- 
way? " 

"She's  gone!"  said  Si,  sadly,  after  they  had  fruitlessly 
explored  the  adjacent  territory.  "D'ye  s'pose  somebody 
stole  it?" 

"Shouldn't  wonder!"  Shorty  scratched  his  head  re- 
flectively and  continued :  "I'll  bet  ye  I  know  whar  't  went 
to,  Si.  You  remember  seein'  one  o'  them  Ohio  chaps 
sneakin'  'round  when  we  was  gittin'  into  shape  last  night, 
'n'  tellin'  us  how  ter  do  it  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Si,  who  was  beginning  to  comprehend  the 
mysterious  disappearance,  "  'n'  he  had  the  cheek  ter  ax  me 
'f  we  had  plenty  o'  blankets  so  's  we'd  sleep  warm.  I  told 
him  we  did,  'n'  he  said  he  was  glad  of  it." 

"I  'low  that  feller  's  got  our  blanket,"  said  Short^^ 

"Wall,  ef  that  ain't  dog-goned  ornery !"  exclaimed  Si. 
"I'm  goin'  ter  lick  him  termorrer.  I  don't  keer  'f  he  's 
twicet  's  big  's  I  am !  " 

With  this  idea  of  retributive  justice  uppermost  in  his 
mind.  Si  dragged  himself  to  the  remains  of  the  fire  and 
tried  to  get  a  little  warmth  into  his  chilled  body.  Shorty 
threw  on  some  wood,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a  bright  blaze 
diffused  a  glow  of  good  cheer.  Drowsiness  soon  overcame 
them,  and  spreading  their  only  remaining  blanket  near 
the  fire,  they  again  lay  down  and  in  a  moment  were  fast 
asleep. 

Long  before  daylight  the .  pitiless  drum  and  bugle 
sounded  the  reveille  into  the  unwilling  ears  of  Company 
Q.    Si  had  not  slept  half  as  long  as  he  wanted  to,  but  the 


178  SI  IN  A  BAD  WAY. 

orderly  was  yelling  for  the  tardy  ones  to  fall  in  for  roll- 
call,  and  there  was  no  alternative.  He  was  very  stiff  and 
sore.  It  seemed  as  if  all  his  joints  had  grown  together 
during  the  night  and  his  bones,  from  head  to  foot,  were 
united  in  a  solid  mass. 

''Great  Scott,  Shorty,"  he  said,  as  he  rolled  over  and 
made  an  effort  to  get  upon  his  feet,  ''I  reck'n  ye'll  have  ter 
git  a  rail  'n'  pry  me  up.  I'm  jest  's  sore  's  a  bile  all  over, 
'n'  's  stiff  's  a  poker.  It  seems  like  I  hadn't  got  no 
j'ints." 

*'I  don't  feel  very  frisky  myself,"  replied  Shorty,  "but  I 
s'pose  we'll  have  ter  turn  out.     Lemme  give  ye:  a  lift." 

Si  gave  him  his  hand,  and  b}^  their  combined  efforts  he 
succeeded  in  reaching  an  erect  posture.  When  he  tried  to 
step  he  tottered  and  would  have  fallen  but  for  the  support- 
ing arm  of  his  comrade.  His  feet  were  insubordinate  and 
would  not  do  as  he  wanted  them  to.  Every  attempt  to 
move  extorted  an  involuntary  groan. 

**  Stick  to  it.  Si,"  said  Shorty,  ''ye'll  git  limbered  up  arter 
awhile." 

Si  was  courageous  and  determined.  He  knew  that  other 
iiien,  thousands  of  them,  had  gone  through  such  an  ex- 
perience. It  was  true  that  a  good  many  had  died  in  bravely 
trying  to  ''get  used  to  it,"  and  many  more  had  thronged 
the  hospitals  along  the  track  of  the  army ;  but  Si  never  for 
a  moment  entertained  the  thought  that  he  could  not  do 
what  anybody  else  had  done.  He  kept  up  a  cheerful  spirit, 
notwithstanding  his  bodily  woes.  To  do  this  was  always 
worth  more  than  barrels  of  medicine  to  a  soldier. 

A  little  exercise  loosened  his  joints,  and  after  roll-call  he 
began  to  stir  about  in  the  work  of  preparing  for  the  day's 
march,  with  more  briskness  than  he  had  thought  possible 
when  he  was  so  rudely  awakened  from  his  slumbers. 

The  disappearance  of  so*  many  overcoats  and  blankets 
ct^ated  a  great  stir  among  the  members  of  the  200th  In- 
diana.   There  was  much  speculation  as  to  what  had  be- 


HE  MAKES  FURTHER  SACRIFICES.  179 

come  of  them.  There  were  few  who  had  not  lost  one  or 
the  other,  and  some  had  been  despoiled  of  both.  Daylight 
revealed  the  members  of  the  old  regiments  of  the  brigade 
suddenly  possessed  of  new  articles  of  this  kind,  and  by 
putting  this  and  that  together,  a  simple  process  of  reason- 
ing soon  brought  to  the  minds  of  the  forlorn  Hoosiers  a 
plausible  solution  of  the  mystery.  Vows  of  vengeance  were 
heard  on  every  hand. 

After  breakfast  Si  began  to  consider  the  advisability  of 
still  further  lightening  his  knapsack.  He  was  partially 
consoled  for  the  loss  of  his  blanket  by  the  thought  that  he 
would  not  have  to  carry  it.  The  nocturnal  foragers  had 
kindly  spared  his  overcoat.  He  thought  he  could  manag«? 
to  rub  along  with  that  until  the  fortunes  of  war— or  the 
quartermaster— should  provide  him  with  another  blanket. 
His  ki^psack,  reduced  though  it  was,  seemed  very  heavy 
when  he  lifted  it.  He  had  but  little  sentiment  left  after  the 
experience  of  the  previous  day.  He  was  more  and  more 
convinced  of  Short^^'s  good  sense  in  the  matter  of  baggage. 

*'Pard,"  he  said,  as  if  once  more  seeking  counsel  of  his 
friend,  ''I  don't  b'lieve  I  want  these  'ere  traps  's  much  's  I 
thought  I  did.  I've  'bout  made  up  my  mind  ter  sling 
away  some  more  on  'em." 

**Ko-rect,"  replied  Shorty,  ''now  ye're  talkin'  kind  o' 
sensible  like.  I  tell  ye  a  soljer  don't  want  ter  lug  a  single 
ounce  more  'n  he  has  ter.   I'd  clean  'em  all  outef  'twas  me." 

Si  v^ent  through  his  stock  w^ith  a  remorseless  determi- 
nation to  spare  not.  Everj-thing  went  except  such  articles 
as  were  absolutely  necessar^^  to  his  well-being,  and  two  or 
three  precious  mementoes  of  home  which  he  felt  that  he 
could  not  part  with.  When  he  came  to  the  pretty  slippers 
that  Annabel  gave  him,  Shorty  sniffed  contemptuously. 

''What  on  airth  d'ye  want  o'  them  things?"  he  said. 
"Ye  hain't  no  more  use  fer  'em  nor  a  mule  has  fer  kid 
gloves." 

But  logic  had  no  bearing  upon  such  a  subject,  and  Si, 


180  A  TRANSACTION  IN  LEATHER. 

without  making  any  reply,  tucked  them  back  Into  his 
knapsack,  saying  to  himself  that  the^^  weren't  vefy  heavy, 
anyway. 

*"' Shorty,"  he  said,  "what  'd  I  better  do  'th  these  'ere 
boots ;  they  feel  's  heav}^  's  ef  they  was  poured  full  o'  lead. 
Them  's  extry  nice  boots  'n'  its  wicked  ter  throw  'em 
away.     They  must  ha'  cost  father  nigh  ten  dollars." 

*'Ef  the  ole  man  'd  ever  toted  a  knapsack  he  wouldn't 
ha'  guv  'em  to  ye.  He  meant  well,  but  he  throwed  away 
his  money  'n'  j^ou  can't  do  nuthin'  but  throw  away  the 
butes.  'Sides,  ye  can't  march  in  'em.  They  ain't  no  good 
'longside  o'  shoes.  Ye  wouldn't  have  no  feet  left  arter  ye  'd 
marched  in  'em  fer  a  week.  I'll  tell  ye,  Si,  try  'n'  sell  'em 
ter  some  ossifer  't  rides  a  boss.  Don't  be  pertickler  'bout 
the  price;  take  jest  what  ye  c'n  git  fer  'em." 

This  was  a  good  suggestion  and  Si  acted  upon  it  a1 
once.  After  a  brief  negotiation  with  the  quartermaster, 
vrhom  the  boots  happened  to  fit,  a  bargain  was  made,  and 
S>i  returned  to  his  comrade  with  three  dollars  in  money. 

"Thar,  pard,"  he  said,  gleefully,  "I'm  goin'  ter  spend 
chat  buyin'  chickens  'n'  you  'n'  me  '11  go  snacks  on  'em. 
They  won't  'low  us  ter  steal  'em,  but  I  reck'n  they  won't 
hender  a  feller  f 'm  gittin'  'em  by  payin'  fer  'em." 

By  the  time  Si  got  through,  his  knapsack  looked  as  if  an 
olephant  had  stepped  on  it.  Those  of  the  entire  regiment 
presented  a  similar  appearance,  varying  onl}^  in  the  extent 
to  which  they  had  been  flattened.  A  few  of  the  men  were 
still  inclined  to  overestimate  their  carrying  abilities,  and 
aeeded  one  or  two  more  days  of  tramping  to  convince 
them  of  their  error.  The  ground  was  strewn  with  gim- 
cracks  of  ever\^  conceivable  kind.  An  army  wagon  might 
have  been  heaped  with  the  debris. 

Some  of  the  soldiers  from  other  regiments  strolled 
through  the  camp  of  the  200th  to  see  how  their  new  com- 
rades were  getting  on.  As  the}^  scornfully  kicked  about 
the  castaway  articles,  they  indulged  in  many  a  cruel  jest  at 


BIBLES  AND  BLISTERS.  181 

the  expense  of  the  Indianians.  The  latter  kindly  offered 
them  books  and  ^''housewives"  and  albums,  but  the  old 
veterans  spurned  the  gifts. 

"We  don't  want  'em  no  more'n  you  do!"  said  a  tall, 
lank  Illinois  soldier,  who  looked  as  if  he  had  slept  in  a 
smoke-house.  "We  all  had  'em  when  we  started  in  but  we 
wasn't  long  sheddin'  'em.  When  I  seen  you  fellers  humpin' 
up  yer  backs  yisterdy  I  knov^ed  what  ye'd  all  be  a  doin' 
this  mornin'.  Soldierin'  's  easy  'nough  arter  ye  git  the 
hang  of  it." 

Si  tried  to  give  away  one  of  his  Bibles,  but  he  did  not 
succeed  in  finding  anybody  who  was  hungering  and  thirst- 
ing after  righteousness  sufficiently  to  be  willing  to  put 
upon  his  back  the  pound  or  so  that  it  weighed.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  there  were  plenty  of  the  veterans  who  showed 
the  need  of  it.  He  thought  particularly^  of  the  degenerate 
individual  who  stole  his  blanket,  and  felt  that  he  would 
like  to  give  it  to  him — although  he  wanted  the  pleasure  of 
"licking"  him  first — if  he  could  ever  find  the  guilU^man. 
He  would  not  throw  the  Bible  awa}^  and  finally  turned  it 
o^^er  to  the  chaplain,  who  promised  to  find  a  place  where 
it  would  do  good  to  somebody.  The  chaplain  gathered 
up  a  score  of  others  upon  the  ground,  which  the  men  had 
thrown  away.  When  it  came  to  the  point  of  choosing 
between  blisters  and  Bibles,  it  did  not  take  long  to  reach  a 
conclusion.  The  chaplain's  reverential  ideas  were  shocked, 
and  he  ventured  to  distribute  in  a  general  way  words  of 
mild  reproof.  Their  effect  was  somewhat  modified,  how- 
ever, by  the  fact  that  he  had  a  horse  to  ride. 

"I  jest  wonder  how  many  Bibles  he'd  carry,"  Shorty 
said  to  Si,  "'f  he  had  ter  hoof  it  'long  'th  the  rest  on 
us,  'n'  tote  a  knapsack  'n'  gun  'n'  catridge-box  'n'  all  the 
rest  of  the  traps  't  we  has  ter;  then  he'd  know  a  good  deal 
better  hoA\^  to  preachify  ter  the  soljers." 

There  was  yet  some  little  time  before  the  fall-in  would 
be  sounded,  and  Si  thought  he  would  go  over  to  the  Ohio 


182  AN  EXPLORING  EXPEDITION. 

regiment  and  see  if  he  could  find  his  blanket.  He  did  noc 
think  Shorty  would  approve  of  the  expedition,  and  there- 
fore said  nothing  to  him  about  it.  He  limped  around 
among  the  veterans,  hoping  that  his  eye  might  catch  the 
face  of  the  man  who  visited  him  the  evening  before.  He 
believed  that  person  was  the  culprit,  and  was  confident 
that  he  could  recognize  him. 

The  old  soldiers  were  lazily  loitering  around  the  fires, 
for  the  chill  of  the  night  had  not  yet  been  dissipated. 
From  the  moment  that  Si  crossed  the  line  he  was  the  tar- 
get of  a  constant  fire  of  good-natured  badinage.  No  person 
could  possibly  have  been  mistaken  in  supposing  that  Si 
was  one  of  the  new  crop.  His  fresh,  ruddy  face  had  not 
yet  been  darkened  by  sun  and  storm  and  smoke,  nor  had 
the  bright  color  faded  from  his  garments.  You  could  have 
picked  him  out  for  a  recruit  among  a  thousand. 

Si  was  not  long  in  finding  the  object  of  his  search.  Sit- 
ting upon  a  new  blanket,  which  he  had  twisted  up  ready 
to  throw  over  his  shoulder  at  tap  of  drum,  was  the  man 
who  had  called  upon  Si  and  Shorty.  Si  was  sure  he  was 
not  mistaken  as  to  the  soldier's  identity,  and  he  had  not  a 
shadow  of  doubt  that  that  blanket  rightfully  belonged  to 
himself.  His  first  impulse  was  to  move  immediately^  upon 
his  works  and  mete  out  to  the  Ohio  man  condign  punish- 
ment, in  accordance  with  his  declaration  to  Shorty.  On 
second  thought  he  didn't  know  but  he  might  be  mistaken 
after  all;  perhaps  somebody  else  had  taken  his  blanket, 
and  besides  this  man  seemed  to  be  in  good  health  and 
thoroughly  able  to  defend  himself. 

"Good  mornin',"  said  Si,  rather  timidly. 

"How  ar'  ye,  pard,"  replied  the  Ohio  man. 

"Nice  mornin'." 

"Yup!" 

"I  thought  I'd  come  'n'  see — that  is,  I  was  goin'  ter  ax  ye 
=-]  mean  I  wanted  ter  tell  3^e  how  much  'bleeged  I  am  ter 


INTO  THE  enemy's   COUNTRY.  183 

ye  for  comin'  over  'n'  helpin'  us  last  night.    It  was  mighty 
good  of  ye  ter  do  it." 

''Oh,  that  ain't  nothin',"  said  the  veteran.  ''I  knowed 
ye'd  be  purty  well  played  out,  fer  I've  been  jest  that  way 
myself,  'n'  I  thought  I  mout  give  ye  a  hint  er  two 't  'dcome 
In  sort  o'  handy.  Ye  pulled  through  bully,  yisterdy, 
but  I  don't  reck'n  ye  feel  very  spr}^  this  mornin',  do  ye? 
Feet  a  leetle  sore?-  Bones  ache?  Feel's  if  ye  didn't  care 
whether  school  kep'  er  not?" 

This  gave  Si  an  opening  to  introduce  the  subject  upper- 
most in  his  thoughts. 

**  Wall,  I'm  fa'r  to  middlin',  considerin'  the  way  they  put 
us  through  all  day." 

''That  wa'n't  no  march  't  all !  One  o'  these  days  ye  will 
cotch  it  fer  a  fact.  It  was  yer  big  load  't  come  nigh  bustin' 
ye  up.  I  seen  you  fellers  all  physickin'  yer  knapsacks  this 
mornin',  'n'  I  'low  ye'll  get  'long  easier  to-dav." 

"I  wouldn't  ha'  been  so  stiff,"  said  Si, '" 'f  I  hadn't 
cotched  cold  last  night.  Somebody  borrered  my  blanket 
'thout  axin'  me,  'n'  'long  to'rd  mornin'  I  waked  up  shakin,' 
*s  if  I'd  got  the  ager." 

"That  was  a  scurvy  trick,"  said  the  old  soldier,  with 
feigned  indignation.  "  Ef  I  was  you  I'd  punch  his  head  fer 
him,  'n'  punch  it  hard,  too,  'f  I  could  find  the  feller  't  done 
it.  Ef  ye  git  yer  eye  on  him,  'n'  he's  too  big  fer  ye,  jestcaP 
on  me  'n'  I'll  help  ye.  We'll  polish  him  off  beautiful." 
•  "That's  what  I  come  over  here  fer,"  said  Si,  who  found 
his  courage  rising.  "I  was  kind  o' thinkin'— mebbe  I'm 
wrong— but— that  'ere  blanket  you're  a-sittin'  on  look? 
jest  like  mine!" 

At  this  palpable  assault  upon  his  integrity  the  soldier 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  assumed  a  warlike  attitude  that  for 
the  moment  demoralized  Si  and  caused  him  to  fall  back. 
In  a  moment,  however,  the  veteran's  hostile  appearance 
ranished,  and  the  scowl  upon  his  face  gave  way  to  a 
"smile  that  was  childlike  and  bland.'* 


184 


SI  MAKES  OUT  A  GOOD  CASE. 


''I  don't  blame  je,  pard,"  lie  said,  *'fer  tryin'  to  find  yer 
blanket.  I'd  feel  the  same  way  'f  I  was  in  yer  place.  But 
this  'ere  one  ain't  youm!  I  drawed  it  f'm  the  quarter- 
master last  night.  I'd  jest 's  lief  let  ye  look  at  it,"  and  he 
unrolled  it  and  spread  it  before  Si,  feeling  secure  in  the  fact 
that  all  blankets  were  alike. 
Si  surveyed  it  critically  and  then  said :    ''Ye  don't  object 

to  turnin'  it  over,   do 
ye?" 

"Course  not!"  was 
the  ready  reply,  and 
over  it  w^ent. 

Si's  quick  eye  detected 
in  one  corner  a  rude 
"K"  that  he  had  been 
thoughtful  enough  to 
put  in  the  first  day  he 
had  his  blanket.  His 
' '  housewife ' '  furnished 
the  necessary  materials. 
''There,"  he  exclaim- 
ed triumphantly,  as  he 
took  it  up  and  pointed 
to  the  letter,  "I  guess 
that  blanket  b 'longs  to 
a  feller  'bout  my  size. 
D'ye  see  that  K?  My 
name's  Klegg,  'n'  that 
means  me.  I  done  that 
myself." 

Appearances  were  rather  against  the  veteran,  but  he  had 
been  in  tight  places  before,  and  he  was  not  in  the  least  dis- 
concerted by  the  evidence  that  Si  had  made  out  his  case. 

"Why,  man  alive,"  he  said,  "my  name  begins  with  a  K, 
coo.  When  I  drew  this  blanket  last  night  I  thought  some 
durned  fool  'd  come  'long  'n'  say  'twas  hisn,  'n'  so  I  jest 


A  PRIMA   FACIE   CASE. 


JOHNSON  SPELLED  WITH  A   "K."  185 

made  my  'nitial  thar  'n  the  corner.    I'll  leave  it  to  the  boys 
'f  I  didn't." 

The  interview  between  Si  and  the  veteran  had  attracted 
to  the*  spot  a  number  of  the  latter's  comrades,  most  of 
whom  had  supplied  themselves  with  new  blankets  in  the 
same  manner  as  did  the  one  who  said  his  name  began  with 
K.  When  appealed  to  in  behalf  of  the  monstrous  state- 
ment, of  course  they  all  stood  by  their  comrade. 

''That's  so,  Johnson,  "said  one  of  them  thoughtlessly,  "I 
seen  ye  doin'  it  with  my  own  eyes.  Ye  was  sittin'  right  on 
that  ar'  log." 

Si  thought  it  was  queer  to  spell  "Johnson"  with  a  K. 
He  wanted  to  say  so,  but  in  the  presence  of  such  monu- 
mental assurance  and  so  great  numerical  odds  he  concluded 
that  it  would  be  the  part  of  discretion  not  to  press  his 
claim.  There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said,  and  he  turned 
away.    The  soldiers  laughed  heartily  at  his  discomfiture. 

"Ef  I  was  you,  Johnson,"  he  heard  one  of  them  say, 
^'the  next  time  I  went  fer  a  blanket  I'd  try  'n'  cabbage  one 
*t  wa'n't  marked,  er  't  had  a  J  on  it." 

And  then  they  all  went  to  inspecting  those  which  thej 
had  acquired,  to  see  if  they  were  liable  to  be  caught  in  the 
same  trap  as  Johnson,  spelled  with  a  K. 

Si  walked  slowly  back  to  Company  Q,  meditating  on 
the  depth  to  which  human  depravity  could  reach,  and  won 
dering  if  he  would  ever  be  like  those  terrible  veterans. 

''Hello,  Si,  whar  ye  been?  "  said  Shorty,  as  his  comrade 
came  up.  "What  makes  ye  so  solemn?  Ye  look  's  though 
ye'd  come  f 'm  a  fun'ral." 

"Shorty,  I've  found  my  blanket  'n'  the  chap  't  stole  it." 

"  Did  ye  lick 'im?" 

' '  N-no,  I  can't  say 's  I  did.  I  never  wanted  ter  thrash  any- 
body so  bad  in  my  life,  but — ^ther'  was  too  many  on  'em, 
Shorty.  I  knew  I  couldn't  lick  a  hull  rijiment,  'n'  so  I 
didn't  try.  Jest  wait  t'll  I  ketch  'im  alone  some  time  'n* 
I'll-" 


186  SI  EXPLAINS  MATTERS. 

"But  why  didn't  ye  bring  along  yer  blanket? '* 

"  Oh,  I  kind  o'  thought  I  wouldn't,  fer  the  same  reason  's 
why  I  didn't  give  him  the  lickin'.  He  said  'twas  hisn  'n* 
stuck  to  it,  'n'  half  the  rijiment  backed  'im  up." 

"Ye  know  ye  had  a  mark  in  the  corner  o'  yer  blanket, 
Si;  did  ye  find  that?" 

"You  bet  I  did,  but  that  feller  had  more  cheek  'n  a  hull 
Tdeam  o'  mules.  He  said  his  name  begun  that  way  'n'  he 
put  that  mark  thar  hisself  An'  then  I  heem  one  o'  the 
boys  call  him  Johnson !  " 

Shorty  laughed  as  his  comrade  told  of  the  treatment  he 
had  received  among  the  Philistines. 

"Tell  ye  what  'tis.  Si,"  he  said.  "Ye  never  seen  sich 
funny  fellers  's  these  'ere  vet'rans  is.  They're  up  ter  all 
kinds  o'  shenanigan.  Ye've  got  ter  larn  how  ter  git  'long 
with  em.  The  best  thing  fer  ye  is  ter  do  jest  's  they  do  'n' 
then  they'll  respect  ye  'n'  ye  won't  have  no  bother  with 
'em.  They're  a  bad  crowd,  'n'  they  alius  makes  it  \^arm 
fer  the  greenies.  Ye  wants  ter  watch  out  fer  a  chance  ter 
git  even  with  'em." 

"I'd  take  my  blanket  'f  I  could,  but  ye  know.  Shorty,  I 
couldn't  steal  nobody  else's." 

"I  ain't  so  squeamish  's  you  be,"  said  Shorty.  "I'll  git 
ye  a  blanket  jest 's  good  's  the  one  ye  had,  'fore  termorrer 
night.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  rob  nobody  in  the  200th  Indiana, 
nuther." 

The  colonel  of  the  200th  stormed  around  and  talked 
with  great  vehemence  about  the  robbing  of  his  men ;  but 
there  v^ere  very  few  of  the  losers  who  could  prove  their 
property  and  nothing  came  of  it.  The  colonel  declared 
that  he  would  keep  a  guard  around  the  regiment  with 
loaded  muskets  and  fixed  bayonets,  wath  orders  to  shoot 
or  stab  any  man  who  should  atte'mpt  to  cross  the  line. 
.  The  second  day's  march  \vas  much  like  the  first.  With 
his  greatly  reduced  load  Si  got  along  better.  But  for  the 
blisters  upon  his  feet,  which  caused  acute  pain  at  every 


so  GLAD  TO  HAVE  SUNDAY  COME.  187 

step,  he  would  have  made  the  journey  with  comparative 
ease.  '  The  division  to  which  the  200th  belonged  was 
ahead  that  da}',  and  the  men  ^were  kept  in  a  constant  fever 
of  excitement  by  the  reports  of  rebels  ahead,  that  filtered 
through  each  successive  regiment  of  the  long  column. 
Now  and  then  a  shot  was  heard  in  the  distance  that 
caused  the  new  soldiers  to  prick  up  their  ears  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  slaughter  they  thought  was  about  to  begin. 
They  did  not  find  any  fighting  to  do,  however,  and  at 
idark,  weary  and  footsore,  they  filed  off  the  road  and  went 
into  bivouac. 

** Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  they  threw  themselves  upon  the 
ground  to  breathe  a  few  minutes  before  setting  about  the 
work  of  getting  supper,  ''I'm  awful  glad  termorrer  's 
Sunday!" 

' ♦  What  fer  ?  "  asked  Shorty. 

"So  's  we  kin  have  a  chance  ter  rest.  I  never  was  so 
glad  ter  have  Sunday  come !  " 

Shorty  laughed  softly  to  himself  but  said  nothing. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

In  Which,  Overcome  by   his  Aches  and  Blisters,   Si   Falls   otrr 
AND  Finds  How  Hard  it  is 'to  "  Ketch  up." 

AN  hour  before  daylight  the  reveille  aroused  Si  from 
his  deep  slumber.  When  he  lay  down  the  evening 
before  he  had  nothing  but  his  overcoat  to  serve  as  a  cover; 
now  he  was  pleased  to  find  himself  lying  under  a  blanket 
which,  if  it  had  no  "K"  stitched  in  the  corner,  was  as  good 
as  the  one  he  had  lost. 
**  Whar  'd  this  come  from?  "  he  asked  his  comrade. 
** Don't  ax  too  many  questions,"  replied  Shorty,   "ye 


188  HE  MARCHED  JUST  THE  SAME. 

had  ter  have  one  'n'  I  jest  got  up  'n  the  night  'n'  'drawed* 
it  fer  ye." 

"But,  Shorty— " 

"Now,  pard,  never  you  mind  the  buts.  Ther'  ain't 
nothin'  ter  be  said  'bout  it.  Ye've  got  a  good  blanket  'n* 
ye  wants  ter  freeze  to  it.  Ye'll  have  ter  larn  ter  look  out 
fer  yerself,  same  's  all  the  rest  on  'em  does." 

Si  was  so  stiff  and  sore  that  it  was  as  much  as  he  could 
do  to  get  into  his  place  for  roll-call.  He  felt  comforted 
when  he  remembered  that  it  was  Sunday,  and  he  would 
not  have  to  march.    How  he  would  enjoy  a  day  of  rest! 

"Ye'll  have  ter  stir  'round  lively  this  mornin',"  said  the 
orderly,  after  he  had  got  through  the  Z's  in  calling  the  roll. 
"We're  goin'  to  pull  out  early,  'cause  we've  got  to  make 
a  long  march.  I  want  ye  to  be  ready  to  fall  in  when  ye 
hear  the  drum.  Ye've  all  got  to  keep  in  ranks,  too ;  ther* 
ain't  goin'  to  be  any  stragglin'  'lowed !  " 

"Did  the  ord'ly  say  we'd  got  ter  march  to-day,  Shorty?  " 
asked  Si,  who  thought  his  ears  must  have  deceived  him 
He  did  not  believe  so  monstrous  a  thing  could  be  true. 

"That's  jest  the  bigness  of  it,"  replied  Shorty. 

"I  didn't  s'pose  they  marched  Sundays,"  said  Si,  "I  sh'd 
think  it  'd  be  wicked  'n'  our  chaplain  'd  make  a  fuss  'bout 
it." 

"Ye  won't  be  long  findin'  out  't  when  men  goes  to  wai 
they've  got  ter  leave  Sunday  to  home.  The  chaplain  won'1 
git  no  chance  ter  preach  to-day  'less  he  preaches  on  hoss 
back.    I  reck'n  his  sarmon  '11  keep." 

"Wall,"  said  Si,  with  an  air  of  resignation.  "I  don't 
see  no  way  but  ter  go  'th  the  rijiment,  but  it's  purty  hard 
ter  put  a  feller  through  right  along,  Sundays  'n'  all.  It  'd 
make  mother  feel  bad,  but  I  ain't  ter  blame." 

Soon  after  breakfast  the  column  w^as  on  the  road,  mov- 
ing at  a  rapid  pace.  The  veterans  didn't  mind  it.  They 
stretched  their  legs  and  went  swinging  along,  cheerful  and 
happy,  as  if  they  were  having  a  hoHday.    The  men  of  the 


TAXED  BEYOND  ENDURANCE.  189 

200th  Indiana  started  bravely,  and  for  the  first  hour  or 
two  kept  in  fair,  compact  shape. 

At  the  outset  Si  groaned  as  he  loaded  himself  up,  and  the 
straps  and  belts  began  to  rub  the  tender  spots  on  his  body. 
But  there  was  no  limit  to  his  pluck,  and  he  tramped  away 
with  a  determination  to  keep  up  with  the  old  soldiers  at 
all  hazards. 

''Them  fellers  that's  bin  in  the  sarvice  longer  'n  we  have 
thinks  the^^'re  smart,''  he  said  to  Shorty  as  they  plodded 
on,  both  alread}^  alittle  blown.  ''We'll  show  'em  that  we 
kin  scratch  gravel  jest  's  well  's  they  kin." 

"Seems  to  me  we're  gittin'  over  the  ground  purty  lively 
to-day,"  replied  Shorty,  w^ho  was  in  a  grumbling  mood. 
"Wonder  if  the  Gin'ral  thinks  we're  bosses!  I'm  a  little 
short  o'  wind,  and  these  pesky  gunboats  is  scrapin'  the 
bark  off 'n  my  feet ;   but  I'll  keep  up  or  bust  a-tryin'." 

Si  soon  began  to  limp  badly,  and  the  smarting  of  his  feet 
became  almost  intolerable.  But  he  clenched  his  teeth, 
humped  his  back  to  ease  his  shoulders  from  the  w^eight  of 
his  knapsack,  screwed  up  his  courage,  and  trudged  on 
over  the  stony  pike.  He  thought  the  breathing  spells 
were  very  short  and  a  long  way  apart. 

Before  noon  the  200th  began  to  show  signs  of  going  to 
pieces.  The  column  stretched  out  longer  and  longer,  like 
a  piece  of  India  rubber.  The  ranks  looked  thin  and  rag- 
ged. Lame  and  foot-sore,  with  woe-begone  faces,  their 
bodies  aching  in  every  part,  and  overcome  with  a  weari- 
ness that  no  language  can  describe,  the  men  dropped  out 
one  by  one  and  threw  themselves  into  the  fence-corners  to 
rest.  The  officers  stormed  and  drew  their  swords  in  vain. 
Nature — that  is,  the  nature  of  a  new  soldier — could  endure 
no  more.  The  ambulances  were  filled  to  their  utmost,  but 
these  would  not  hold  a  twentieth  part  of  the  crippled  and 
suffering  men. 

"How're  ye  gittin'  on,  Shorty?"  said  Si,  as  he  and  his 
comrade  still  struggled  along. 


190  SI 

*'Fa'r  to  middlin',"  replied  Shorty.  ''I'm  goin'  tcr  ptdl 
through ! ' ' 

''I  thought  /could,''  said  Si,  ''but  I'm 'bout  played  out! 
I  am,  fer  a  fact !  I  guess  ef  I  rest  a  bit  I'll  be  able  to  ketch 
up  arter  a  wrhile." 

Si  didn't  know,  till  he  found  out  by  experience,  how 
hard  it  was  to  "ketch  up  "  when  a  soldier  once  got  behind 
on  the  march. 

He  crept  up  to  the  orderly  and  told  him  that  he  would 
have  to  stop  and  puif  awhile  and  give  his  blisters  a  rest. 
He'd  pull  up  with  Company  Q  in  an  hour  or  so. 

"Better  not,  Si,"  said  the  orderly;  "ye  know  it's  agin 
orders,  and  the  rear-guard  '11  punch  ye  with  their  bay'nets 
if  the}^  catch  ye  stragglin' . " 

But  Si  concluded  that  if  he  must  die  for  his  country  it 
-would  be  sweeter  to  do  so  by  having  a  bayonet  inserted 
in  his  vitals,  and  have  it  all  over  wath  at  once,  than  to 
walk  himself  to  death. 

So  he  gradually  fell  back  till  he  reached  the  tail  of  the 
company.  Watching  his  opportunity  he  left  the  ranks, 
crept  into  a  clump  of  bashes,  and  la^^  down.  Soon  the 
rear-guard  of  the  200th  came  along,  with  fixed  bayonets, 
driving  before  them,  like  a  flock  of  frightened  sheep,  a  mot- 
ley crowd  of  limping,  groaning  men,  gathered  up  by  th<; 
roadside. 

Si  lay  very  still,  hoping  to  escape  discovery;  but  thr 
keen  eye  of  the  oflicer  detected  the  blue  heap  among  the 
bushes. 

"Bring  that  man  out!"  he  said,  sternlj^,  to  one  of  the 
guards. 

Poor  Si  scarcely  dared  to  breathe.  He  hoped  the  man 
would  think  he  was  dead,  and  therefore  no  longer  of  any 
account.  But  the  soldier  began  to  prod  him  with  his 
bayonet,  ordering  him  to  get  up  and  move  on. 

"Look  a-here,  pard,"  said  Si,  "don't  stab  me  with  that 
tiling !    I  jest  can't  git  along  any  furder  till  I  blow  a  little. 


HE  KNEW  HOW  IT  WAS  HIMSELF. 


191 


You  please  lemme  be,  'n'  1*11  do  as  much  fer  you. 

sometime    you'll   git 

played  out  and  I'll  be/^ 

on  the  rear-gnard.    The 

cap'n  '11  tell  meterfotch 

ye  'long,  an'  I'll  jest  let 

up  on  ye,  so  I  will !" 

This  view  of  the  case  t:j 
struck  the  guard  with 
some  force.  He  was  in 
much  the  same  condi- 
tion himself,  and  had 
that  ' '  fellow  -  feeling 
that  made  him  *' won- 
drous kind."  He  turned 


a\vay,    leaving 


Si 


DON'T  STAB  ME. 


enjoy  his  rest.  Si  threw  aside  his  traps,  took  oiT  his  shoe* 
and  stockings,  and  bathed  his  feet  with  water  from  his  can- 
teen. He  ate  a  couple 
of  hardtack,  and  in  the 
course  of  half  an  hour 
began  to  feel  more  like 
Si  Klegg.  He  put  on 
his  accouterments, 
shoulderied  his  gun,  and 
started  to  ''ketch  up." 

All  this  time  the  stream 
of  troops  —  regiments, 
brigades  and  divisions 
—  had  flowed  on.  Of 
course,  soldiers  who 
were  with  their  colors 
had  the  right  of  way, 
and  the  stragglers  were 
obliged  to  stumble  along 
as  best  they  could,  over  the  logs  and  through  the  bushes  at 


HYDROPATHIC  TREATMENT. 


192  TRYING  TO 

the  sides  of  the  road,  or  skirt  along  the  edges  of  the  fields 
and  woods  adjoining.  It  was  this  fact,  added  to  their  ex- 
hausted and  crippled  condition,  that  made  it  almost  im- 
possible for  them  to  overtake  their  regiments  until  after 
they  had  halted  for  the  night.  Even  then  it  was  often 
midnight  before  the  last  of  the  wayfarers,  weary  and 
worn,  reached  the  end  of  the  day's  journey. 

Si  started  forward  briskly,  but  soon  found  it  was  no 
easy  matter  to  gain  the  mile  or  more  that  the  200th  In- 
diana was  now  ahead  of  him.  It  was  about  all  he  could 
do  to  keep  up  with  the  fast  moving  column  and  avoid 
falling  still  farther  to  the  rear.  Presently  the  bugles 
sounded  a  halt  for  one  of  the  hourly  rests. 

/'Now,"  said  Si  to  himself,  ''I'll  have  a  good  chance  ter 
git  along  tor'd  the  front.  The  soljers  '11  all  lie  down  in  the 
fence  corners  an'  leave  the  road  clear.  I'll  jest  git  up  and 
dust!" 

The  sound  of  the  bugles  had  scarcely  died  away  when 
the  pike  was  deserted ;  and  on  either  side,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  the  prostrate  men  that  covered  the  ground 
mingled  in  a  long  fringe  of  blue. 

Si  got  up  into  the  road  and  started  along  the  lane  be- 
tween these  lines  of  recumbent  soldiers.  His  gait  was  a 
little  shaky,  but  he  trudged  pluckily  along,  limping  some, 
though  on  the  whole  making  very  good  headway. 

Pretty  soon  he  struck  a  veteran  regiment  from  Illinois, 
the  members  of  which  were  sitting  and  lying  around  in  all 
the  picturesque  and  indescribable  attitudes  which  the  old 
soldiers  found  gave  them  the  greatest  comfort  during  a 
"rest."  Then  the  fun  commenced — that  is,  it  was  great 
sport  for  the  Sucker  boys,  though  Si  did  not  readily  appre- 
ciate the  humorous  features  of  the  scent. 

"What  rijiment  is  this  ?  "  asked  Si,  timidly. 

"Same  old  rijiment !  "  was  the  answer  from  half  a  dozen 
at  once.  A  single  glance  told  the  swarthy  veterans  that 
the  fresh-looking  youth  who  asked  this  conundrum  be- 


UNDER  FIRE.  193 

longed  to  one  of  the  new  regiments,  and  they  immediately 
opened  their  batteries  upon  him : 

''Left— Left— Left!" 

"Hayfoot — Strawfoot!  Hayfoot — Strawfoot!"  keeping 
time  with  Si's  somewhat  irregular  steps. 

"Grab  a  root!" 

''Hello,  there,  you!  Change  step  an'  yell  march  easier!  '* 

"Here  comes  one  o'  the  persimmon-knockers ! " 

"Look  at  that  'ere  poor  feller;  the  only  man  left  alive  of 
his  rijiment!  Great  Ceesar,  how  they  must  ha'  suffered! 
Say-y  what  rijiment  did  ye  b'long  to  ?  " 

"Paymaster's  comin',  boys;  here's  a  chap  with  a  pay- 
roll 'round  his  neck ! ''  Si  had  put  on  that  morning  the  last 
of  the  paper  collars  he  had  brought  from  home. 

"Ye'd  better  shdi  that  knapsack,  or  it'll  be  the  death 
of  ye!" 

"I  sa}^,  there,  how's  all  the  folks  to  home ?  " 

"How  d'  ye  like  it  's  fur  's  ye've  got,  anyway?  " 

" Git  some  commissary  and  pour  into  them  gunboats !  '* 

"Second  relief 's  come  boys ;  we  kin  all  go  home  now." 

"How  'd  jQ  leave  yer  sweetheart?" 

"Hep— Hep— Hep!" 

Si  had  never  been  under  so  hot  a  fire  before.  He  stood  it 
as  long  as  he  could,  and  then  stopped. 

"Halt!"  shouted  a  chorus  of  voices.  "Shoulder — 
Arms  !     Order — Arms !  " 

By  this  time  Si's  wrath  was  at  the  boiling  point.  Cast- 
ing around  him  a  look  of  defiance,  he  exclaimed : 

"Ye  cowardly  blaggards ;  I  kin  jest  lick  any  two  on  jq^ 
an'  I'll  dare  ye  to  come  on.  Ef  the  200th  Injianny  was 
here  we'd  clean  out  the  hull  pack  of  ye  quicker 'n  ye  kin 
say  scat! " 

This  is  where  Si  made  a  mistake.  He  ought  to  have 
kept  right  on  and  said  nothing.  But  he  had  to  find  out 
all  these  things  by  experience,  as  the  rest  of  the  boys  did. 

All  the  members  of  the  regiment  now  took  a  hand  in  the 


19* 


SIS  ANGRY  PASSIONS  RISE. 


game.  They  got  right  up  and  yelled,  discharging  at  Si  a 
volley  of  expletives  and  pointed  remarks  that  drove  him 
to  desperation.     Instinctively  he  brought  up  his  gun. 

''Load  in  nine  times — Load !  "  shouted  the  tramps. 

If  Si's  gun  had  been  loaded  he  would  have  shot  some- 
body, regardless  of  consequences.  Thinking  of  his  bayonet, 
he  jerked  it  quickly  from  its  scabbard. 

"Fix — Bay 'net ! "  yelled  the  ragged  veterans. 


SI  DEFIES  A  REGIMENT  OF  VETERANS. 

And  he  did,  though  it  was  more  from  the  promptings  of 
his  own  hostile  feelings  than  in  obedience  to  the  orders. 

"Charge— Bay'net!" 

Si  had  completely  lost  control  of  himself  in  his  overpow- 
ering rage.  With  blood  in  his  eye,  he  came  to  a  "charge," 
glancing  fiercely  from  one  side  of  the  road  to  the  other, 
uncertain  where  to  begin  the  assault. 

Instantly  there  was  a  loud  clicking  all  along  the  line* 
The  Illinois  soldiers,  almost  to  a  man,  fixed  their  bayonets. 
Half  of  them  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  aimed  their  shtr*- 


HB  MAKES  A  GOOD  RESOLUTION.  195 

ing  points  at  the  poor  little  Hoosier  patriot,  filling  the  air 
with  shouts  of  derision. 

It  was  plain,  even  to  Si  in  his  inflamed  state  of  mind, 
that  the  odds  against  him  were  too  heavy. 

''Unfix— Bay  net !  "  they  yelled. 

Si  concluded  he  had  better  get  out  of  a  bad  scrape  the 
best  way  he  could.  So  he  took  off  his  bayonet  and  put  it 
back  in  its  place.  He  shouted  defiant  words  at  his  tor 
mentors,  but  they  could  not  be  heard  in  the  din. 

''Shoulder— Arms!  Right — Face!  Right  shoulder  shift 
— Arms!  Forward — March!"  These  commands  came  in 
quick  succession  from  the  ranks  amidst  roars  of  laughter. 

Si  obeyed  the  orders  and  started  off. 

'*  Left— Left— Left !     Hayfoot— Stra  wfoot ! ' ' 

Forgetting  his  blisters,  Si  took  the  double-quick,  while 
the  mob  swung  their  caps  and  howled  with  delight. 

Si  didn't  "ketch  up"  with  the  200th  Indiana  until  it  had 
been  some  time  in  bivouac.  Shorty  had  a  quart  of  hot  coffee 
waiting  for  him. 

"Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  they  sat  by  the  fire,  "I'm  goin'  ter 
drop  dead  in  my  tracks  'fore  I'll  fall  out  agin." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?  " 

"Oh,  nothin' ;   only  you  jest  try  it,"  said  Si. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  occasional  "fun"  the  soldiers 
had  in  the  army  to  brighten  their  otherwise  dark  and 
cheerless  lives,  they  would  all  have  died.  They  made  the 
most  of  every  opportunity,  and  Si  was  a  true  type  of  those 
who  had  to  suffer  for  the  good  of  others  until  they  learned 
wisdom  in  the  school  of  experience. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

How  Si  Wrestled  with  the  Hardtack  —  Some  Remarks  on  thb 
Soldier's  Bill  of  Fare. 

TPIE  one  thing  that  troubled  SiKlegg  more  than  every- 
thing else  during  the  first  few  weeks  of  his  service  in 
the  army  v/as  his  appetite.  It  was  a  very  robust,  healthy 
one  that  Si  had,  for  he  had  never  known  what  it  was  to  be 
hungry  without  abundant  means  at  hand  to  satisfy  his- 
cravings.  His  mother's  cupboard  was  never  in  the  condition 
of  Old  Mother  Hubbard's,  described  in  the  nursery  rhyme. 
His  flourishing  state  at  the  time  he  enlisted  showed  that  he 
had  been  well  fed,  and  that  nature  had  made  good  use  of 
the  ample  daily  supplies  that  were  provided.  His  digestive 
organs  were  kept  in  perfect  condition  by  constant  exercise. 

During  the  short  time  that  the  200th  Indiana  lay  in 
camp  before  starting  on  its  first  campaign  there  had  been 
no  lack.  The  toothsome  dainties  that  had  been  so  lavishly 
provided  by  the  home-folk  supplemented  the  plentiful 
rations  of  soft  bread,  meat,  coffee,  beans,  etc.,  furnished  by 
the  commissary  department,  and  Si  enjoyed  a  continual 
feast.  When  he  was  put  on  campaign  diet  he  had  a  hard 
struggle  to  bring  his  rebellious  stomach  into  a  state  of 
subjection.  He  began  to  realize  what  it  was  to  suffer  for 
his  country. 

When  the  regiment  got  orders  to  pull  out.  Company  Q 
drew  several  boxes  of  hardtack  that  the  bo^'s  had  heard 
so  much  about.    As  the  orderly  pried  open  the  boxes  pre- 

196 


"all  that  glitters  is  not  gold." 


197 


paratory  to  distributing  the  "staff  of  life,"  they  gathered 
around,  eager  to  gratif\'  their  curiosity. 

''Them  looks  's  ef  they  was  reel  nice— jest  like  sody 
crackers.  I  don't  b'lieve  the  grub  's  goin'  ter  be  so  bad 
arterall." 

Si  said  this  with  a  smile  of  serene  satisfaction,  as  he 
stood  looking  at  the  long  rows  of  crackers  standing 
edgewise. 

"Better  taste  one  an'  see  how  ye  like  it !  "  said  a  ragged 
Indiana  veteran  who  had 
come  over  to  see  the  boys 
of  the  200th  and  hear  the 
latest  news  from  "God's 
country." 

It  happened  that  this  lot 
was  one  of  extra  quality 
as  to  hardness.  The  baker's 
watch  had  stopped,  or  he 
had  gone  to  sleep,  and  they 
had  been  left  in  the  oven  or 
dry-kiln  too  long.  Si  took  Af^  /, 
one  of  them  and  carried  it  % 
to  his  mouth.  He  first  tried 
to  bite  it  in  the  same  way 
that  he  would  a  quarter 
section  of  custard  pie,  but 
his  incisors  made  no  more  ^  '^^^t  of  jaw-power. 

impression  upon  it  than  if  it  had  been  cast-iron. 

"  Ye'll  have  ter  b'ar  down  hard,"  said  the  veteran,  with 
a  grim  smile. 

" Je-ru-sa-7e/22 !  "  exclaimed  Si,  after  he  had  made  two  or 
three  attempts,  equally  barren  of  results. 

Then  he  tried  his  "back  teeth."  His  molars  were  in 
prime  order,  and  his  jaw  power  was  sufficient  to  crack  a 
hickory  nut  every  time.  Si  crowded  one  comer  of  the 
bardtack  as  far  as  he  could  between  his  grinders,  where  he 


198 


DESPERATE  MEASURES. 


could  get  a  good  purchase  on  it,  shut  his  eyes,  and  turned 
on  a  full  head  of  steam.  His  teeth  and  jaws  fairly  creaked 
under  the  strain,  but  it  gave  no  sign  of  yielding. 

**Ef  that  ain't  old  pizen  !  "  he  said.  ''It  beats  anything 
I  ever  seen  up  in  the  Wabash  country.'^ 

But  his  blood  was  up,  and  laying  the  cracker  upon  a  log^ 
he  brought  the  butt  of  his  gun  down  upon  it  with  the  force 
of  a  sledge-hammer. 

''I  thought  I'd  fix 
ye,"  he  said,  as  he 
picked  up  the  frag- 
ments and  tried  his 
teeth  upon  the  smal- 
ler ones.  After  chew- 
ing upon  them  for  two 
or  three  minutes  he  felt 
qualified  to  give  a  just 
verdict. 

''Wall  — I'll  — be  — 

dumed !  I  didn't  spose 

I'd  got   ter   live    on 

sich  low-down  fodder 

's   that.      The    guvy- 

ment  must  think  I'm 

a  grist-mill.      I'd  jest 

's  soon  be  a  billy-goat 

'n'  eat   circus-posters 

'n'    tomater-cans    'n' 

oldhoopskirts." 

*' Ye'll  get  used  to  't  arter  a  while,  same  's  we  did,"  said 

the  veteran.     ' '  Ye'll  see  the  time  when  yell  be  mighty  glad 

to  get  as  hard  a  tack  as  that !" 

Si's  heart  sank  almost  into  his  shoes  at  the  prospect, 
for  the  taste  of  his  mother's  pie  and  Annabel's  fruit  cake 
were  yet  fresh  in  his  mouth.  But  he  was  fully  bent  on 
being  a  loyal  and  obedient  soldier,  determined  to  make 


THE  LAST  RESORT. 


EXPER IMENTING . 


199 


the  best  of  everything,  without  an}^  more  "kicking"  than 
was  the  inalienable  right  of  every  man  who  wore  a  uniform. 

Si  went  to  bed  hungry  the  first  night  of  the  march,  an 
affliction  he  had  never  before  suffered.  Impelled  by  the 
gnawings  of  his  appetite  he  made  repeated  assaults  upon 
the  hardtack,  but  the  result  was  wholly  insufficient  to 
satisfy  the  longings  of  his  stomach.  Before  going  to  bed 
he  began  to  exercise  his  ingenuity  on  various  schemes  to 
reduce  the  hardtack  to  a  condition  in  which  it  would  be 
more  gratifying  to  his  taste  and  better  suited  to  the  means 
with  which  nature  had 
provided  him  for  digest- 
ing his  rations.  Naturally 
Si  thought  that  soaking 
in  water  would  have  a 
beneficial  effect.  So  he  laid 
five  or  six  of  them  in  the 
bottom  of  his  frying-pan, 
anchored  them  down  with 
a  stone,  and  covered  them 
with  water. 

He  felt  a  little  blue  as  he 
la}^  curled  up  under  his 
blanket.  He  thought  some 
about  his  mother  and  sister 
Maria  and  prett}- Annabel, 
but  he  thought  a  good 
deal  more  about  the  beef 
and  potatoes,  the  pies  and  the  puddings,  that  were 
so  plentifully  spread  upon  the  table  at  home.  While 
he  was  thinking  it  over,  before  he  went  to  sleep,  there 
came  to  his  mind  uses  to  which  it  seemed  to  him  the  hard- 
tack might  be  put,  which  would  be  much  more  consistent 
with  its  nature  than  to  palm  it  off  on  the  soldiers  as 
alleged  food.  He  believed  he  could  now  understand 
why.  when  he  enlisted,  the  doctor  examined  his  teeth  so 


THE  EFFECT  OF   '*  GETTING  USED 
TO  IT." 


200  SCHEMES  OF  USEFULNESS. 

carefulh',  as  if  he  was  going  to  buy  him  for  a  mule.  He 
had  been  told  that  it  was  necessar^^  to  have  good  teeth  in 
order  to  bite  '^catridges  "  successfully,  but  now  he  knew  it 
-v^as  with  reference  to  his  ability  to  eat  hardtack. 

Si  didn't  want  to  be  killed  if  he  could  help  it.  While  he 
was  lying  there  he  thought  what  a  good  thing  it  would 
be  to  line  one  of  his  shirts  with  army  crackers,  and  put 
that  on  whenever  there  was  going  to  be  a  fight.  He 
didn't  believe  the  bullets  would  go  through  them.  He 
wanted  to  do  all  he  could  toward  paralyzing  the  rebels, 
and  with  such  a  protection  he  could  be  very  brave,  while 
his  comrades  were  being  mowed  down  around  him.  The 
idea  of  having  such  a  shirt  struck  Si  as  being  a  brilliant 
one.  The  peddler's  patent  breastplate  would  be  nothing 
to  it. 

Then  he  thought  hardtack  would  be  excellent  for  half- 
soling  his  shoes.  He  didn't  think  they  would  ever  wear 
out.  If  he  ran  short  of  ammunition  he  could  ram  pieces 
of  hardtack  into  his  gun,  and  he  had  no  doubt  they  would 
do  terrible  execution  in  the  ranks  of  the  enemy. 

All  these  things,  and  many  more,  Si  thought  of,  until 
finally  he  was  lost  in  sleep.  Then  he  dreamed  that  some- 
body was  trying  to  cram  stones  down  his  throat. 

In  the  morning  Si  went  to  look  after  the  crackers  he  had 
put  to  soak  the  night  before.  He  thought  he  had  never 
felt  so  hungry  in  his  life.  He  fished  them  out  and  carefully 
inspected  them,  to  note  the  result  of  the  submerging  and 
to  figure  out  the  chances  on  his  much-needed  breakfast. 

It  would  be  unnecessary  to  describe  to  any  old  soldier 
the  condition  in  which  Si  found  those  crackers.  For  the 
information  of  an^^  who  never  soaked  a  hardtack  it  may 
be  said  that  the^^  were  transformed,  to  all  appearances, 
into  sole-leather.  They  were  flexible,  but  as  tough  as  the 
hide  that  was 

"  Found  in  the  vat  when  the  tanner  died." 

Si  tried  to  bite  o£f  a  piece  to  see  what  it  was  like,  but  he 


A  DISH  OF   "LOBSCOUSE."  201 

couldn't  get  his  teeth  through  it.  In  sheer  desperation  he 
laid  it  on  a  log,  drew  his  Sunday  school  bowie-knife,  and 
chopped  off  a  comer.  He  put  it  in  his  mouth,  but  found  it 
as  tasteless  as  cold  codfish. 

He  thought  he  would  try  the  frying  pan.  He  cut  the 
hardtack  into  bits,  put  in  some  ^vater  and  two  or  three 
slices  of  bacon,  sifted  over  the  mixture  a  little  salt  and 
pepper,  and  then  gave  it  a  thorough  frying.  His  spirits 
rose  during  the  gradual  development  of  this  scheme,  as  it 
seemed  to  offer  a  good  prospect  for  his  morning  meal. 
When  it  came  to  the  eating,  he  found  it  good,  compara- 
tively speaking,  though  it  was  very  much  like  a  dish  com- 
pounded of  the  sweepings  from  around  a  shoemaker's 
bench.  A  good  appetite  was  indispensable  to  a  real  en- 
joyment of  it,  but  Si  had  the  appetite,  and  he  ate  it  with 
a  thankful  heart. 

''I  thought  I'd  get  the  bulge  on  them  things  some  way 
er  ruther,"  said  Si,  as  he  drank  the  last  of  his  coffee  and 
arose  from  his  meal,  feeling  like  a  giant  refreshed  with  new 
wine. 

For  the  next  two  or  three  months  Si  largely  devoted  his 
surplus  energies  to  further  experimenting  with  the  hard- 
tack. He  applied  every  conceivable  process  of  cooker^^  he 
could  think  of,  that  was  possible  with  the  outfit  at  his 
command  in  the  way  of  utensils  and  materials.  Nearly 
all  of  his  patient  and  persevering  efforts  resulted  only  in 
vexation  of  spirit.  He  continued  to  eat  hardtack  from 
day  to  day,  in  various  forms,  but  it  was  only  because  he 
had  to  do  it — it  was  that  or  nothing-. 

Si's  chronic  aversion  to  the  hardtack  was  not  fully  over- 
come until  he  went  through  another  "experience."  It  fell 
upon  a  day  that  the  line  of  communication  w^as  broken 
by  the  enemy  and  the  cracker  supply  was  cut  off.  The 
commissary  happened  to  have  a  lot  of  flour  on  hand,  and 
this  -was  issued  to  the  men  for  a  week. 
"That  '11  be  tip-top,"  Si  said  to  Shorty. 


202  RATIONS  OF  FLOUR. 

"How  ye  goin'  ter  cook  it  ?  "  asked  Shorty. 

Si  had  not  thought  as  far  as  that.  At  the  moment  he 
only  remembered  the  deHcious  bread  and  biscuit  that  his 
mother  and  sister  Maria  used  to  make.  It  did  not  occur 
to  him,  until  suggested  by  Shorty's  practical  question, 
that  in  his  case  both  the  skill  and  the  means  by  which  so 
desirable  a  result  could  be  attained  were  wholly  wanting. 

"I  guess  we  kin  manage  it  some  way,"  he  said,  hopefully. 

To  get  that  flour  into  eatable  shape,  with  the  extremely 
meager  facilities  at  his  command,  proved  a  severe  strain 
upon  Si's  culinary  resources.  The  fearful  flapjacks  that  he 
made,  and  the  lumps  of  dough,  mixed  with  cold  water  and 
dried  on  flat  stones  before  the  fire,  as  hard  as  cannon-balls, 
wrought  sad  havoc  with  his  internal  arrangements.  Dur- 
ing that  week  he  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  doctor's 
tent,  where  he  was  liberally  dosed  with  blue-mass. 

''Ther'  ain't  nothin'  so  good  as  hardtack,"  said  Shorty. 

By  this  time  Si  thought  so  too.  He  had  had  enough  of 
flour,  and  hailed  with  delight  the  reappearance  of  the  ex- 
asperating but  wholesome  hardtack.  The  onl}^ grumbling 
he  afterward  did  on  this  score  was  when,  owing  to  the 
exigencies  of  the  service,  he  could  not  get  as  much  of  it  as 
he  wanted.  About  six  months  taught  him,  what  all  the 
soldiers  learned  by  experience,  that  the  bestv^ay  to  eat  the 
hardtack  was  to  take  it  ''straight  "—just  as  it  came  out 
of  the  box.  When  the  crackers  were  extra  hard  they  were 
softened — a  curious  fact — by  toasting,  and  in  no  other  way 
could  this  be  satisfactorily  accomplished.  The  soaking 
and  frying  and  stewing  were  but  a  delusion  and  a  snare. 

Early  in  the  war  there  v^as  a  benevolent  but  Utopian 
scheme  to  supply  the  soldiers  with  ''soft  bread"  while  en- 
gaged in  active  campaigning.  Inventive  genius  produced 
a  great  bake-oven  on  wheels,  that  could  be  hauled  around 
and  fired  up  whenever  the  troops  halted.  In  the  goodness 
of  its  heart  tjie  United  States  government  ordered  several 
hundred  of  these  perambulating  ovens,  equipped  them  in 


THE   BAKE-OVEX   ON   WHEELS.  203 

gay  st^^le  with  mules  and  drivers  and  scientific  bakers,  and 
distributed  them  around ,  one  t  o  each  regiment .  At  first  the 
boys  thought  they  were  a  great  thing,  and  they  were — for 
the  contractor  who  furnished  them.  They  started  out  in 
fine  trim  and  for  a  few  days,  when  the  roads  were  good ,  they 
kept  up  with  the  army  and  turned  out  loaves  by  the  hun- 
dred. The  troops  were  in  high  feather  at  the  prospect. 
True,  the  bread  was  often  sour  and  sodden,  but  the  new 
soldiers  ate  it  thankfully,  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  it 
was  better  than  hardtack.  The  bread  went  rapidly  from 
bad  to  worse.  Sometimes  the  unwieldy  machine  w^ould 
stick  in  the  mud  and  perhaps  not  reach  camp  till  midnight; 
or  the  baker  would  so  far  forget  his  duty  to  his  suffering 
countrj^  as  to  get  drunk,  and  then  there  would  be  no  bread, 
good  or  bad.  With  their  full  rations  of  flour  the  soldiers, 
at  such  times,  had  no  hardtack  to  fall  back  upon,  and  to 
avert  a  disastrous  famine  they  were  forced  to  make  such 
shift  as  they  could  by  cooking,  each  for  himself,  in  the  most 
rude  and  primitive  manner.  So  the  pleasing  illusion  of  the 
traveling  bakery  was  gradually  dispelled,  and  there  was  a 
sad  awakening  from  the  dream  of  soft  bread.  One  by  one 
the  ponderous  vehicles  got  out  of  repair,  or  were  capsized 
and  wrecked,  or  were  abandoned  as  a  useless  incum- 
brance. They  had  wholly  disappeared  before  the  200th 
Indiana  took  the  field. 

Si  did  not  have  such  serious  trouble  with  that  other  sta- 
ple of  army  diet,  which  was  in  fact  the  inseparable  com- 
panion and  complement  of  the  hardtack.  It  took  its  most 
popular  name  from  that  part  of  the  body  of  the  female  swine 
which  is  usually  nearest  the  ground.  Much  of  Si's  muscle 
and  brawn  was  due  to  the  fact  that  meat  had  always  been 
plenty  at  home.  When  he  enlisted  he  was  not  entirely  free 
from  anxiety  on  the  question  of  meat,  for  to  him  it  was 
not  even  second  in  importance  to  bread.  If  bread  was  the 
**staffoflife,"  meat  was  life  itself.  It  didn't  make  much 
difference  what  kind  it  was,  onlv  so  it  was  meat.    He 


204 


CONCERNING  SWINE  S  FLESH. 


r  r 


didn't  suppose  Uncle  Sam  would  keep  him  supplied  with 
quail  on  toast  and  porterhouse  steaks  all  the  time,  but  he 
did  hope  he  would  give  him  as  much  as  he  wanted  of  some- 
thing in  that  line. 

'*  Ye  won't  git  much  'sides  pork,  'nless  ye're  a  good  for- 
ager," said  Shorty  to  him  one  day,  when  they  were  giving 
the  subject  thoughtful  consideration. 

Si  thought  he  might,  with  practice  and  a  little  encour- 
agement, be  fairly  successful  in  foraging,  but  he  said  he 

v^ouldn't  grumble  if  he 
could  only  get  plenty  of 
pork.  Fortunately  for 
him  he  had  not  been  im- 
bued with  the  teachings 
of  the  Hebraic  dispensa- 
tion, which  declared ' '  un- 
clean "  the  beast  that 
furnished  so  much  food 
for  the  American  sol- 
diers. 

Before  starting  on  the 
march,  the  bacon  receiv- 
ed by  Company  Q  was 
of  prime  quality,  and  Si 
thought  it  would  always 
be  so. 

"I  don't  see  nothin'  the  matter  with  sich  grub  as  that!'* 
he  said.  "Looks  to  me  's  though  we  was  goin'  ter  live 
like  fightin'  cocks." 

"Ye're  jest  a  little  bit  brash,"  said  his  veteran  friend. 
"Better  eat  all  ye  kin  lay  yer  hands  on  now,  while  ye've 
got  a  chance.  One  o'  these  days  ye '11  git  'n  a  tight 
place  'n'  ye  won't  see  'nough  hog's  meat  in  a  week  ter 
grease  a  griddle.  I've  bin  thar,  myself!  Jest  look  at  me 
and  see  what  short  rations  '11  bring  ye  to." 
But  Si  thought  he  wouldn't  try  to  cross  a  bridge  till  he 


THE  FLESH  OF  SWINE. 


A   CAUSE   OF  INFLAMMATION. 


205 


got  to  it,  nor  lie  awake  nights  worrying  over  troubles  that 
were  yet  in  the  future.  He  had  a  philosophical  streak  in 
his  mental  make  up,  which  was  a  good  thing  for  a  soldier. 
** Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof,"  was  an  excel- 
lent rule  for  him  to  follow. 

So  Si  assimilated  all  the  pork  that  fell  to  his  share,  with 
an  extra  bit  now  and  then  from  a  comrade  whose  appetite 
-was  less  vigorous,  and  thrived  under  it.  No  scientific  pro- 
cesses of  cookery  were  necessary  to  prepare  it  for  imme- 
diate use.  A  simple  broiling  or  frying  or  toasting  was  all 
that  was  required. 

Sometimes  fresh  beef 
was  issued.  It  is*true 
that  the  animals  slain 
for  the  soldiers  were 
not  always  fat  and 
tender,  nor  did  each  of 
them  have  four  hind- 
quarters. This  last  fadt 
was  the  direct  cause  of  j 
a  good  deal  of  inflam- 
mation in  the  200th' 
Indiana,  as  in  every 
other  regiment.  The 
boys  who  got  sections 
of  the  forward  part  of 
the  "critter,"  usually  about  three-quarters  bone,  always 
growled,  and  fired  peppery  remarks  at  those  who  got  the 
juicy  steaks  from  the  rear  portion  of  the  animal.  Then, 
when  their  turn  came  for  a  piece  of  hind-quarter,  the  other 
fellows  would  grumble.  Four-fifths  of  them  generally  had 
to  content  themselves  with  a  skinny  rib  or  a  soup-shank. 
Si  shared  the  common  lot,  and  did  his  full  quota  of 
grumbling  because  his  ''turn"  for  a  slice  of  steak  didn't 
come  every  time  beef  was  issued. 

The  flesh  of  the  swine  was  comparatively  free  from  this 


A  SIMPLE  PROCESS. 


206 


THE  HAM  MYSTERY  EXPLAINED. 


cause  of  irritation.  It  was  all  alike,  and  was  simply 
*'  Hobsbn's  choice. "  Si  remembered,  however,  the  fragrant 
and  delicious  fried  ham  that  so  often  garnished  his  mother's 
breakfast  table,  and  sometimes  wondered  if  the  hogs 
slaughtered  for  the  army  were  all  ''belly  "  and  no  ham, for 
he  never  drew  any.     One  day  he  asked  Shorty  about  it. 

*' Thunder!"  was  the  answer.     ''Hams  don't  grow  fer 
anybody  but  ossifers !  " 

"Oh," said  Si,  "I  didn^t  think  o'  that.    Pity  we  can't  all 
be  ossifers ! ' ' 
Now  and  then  a  few  pigs' shoulders  were  handed  around 

among  the  boys,  but  the 
large  proportion  of  bone 
they  contained  was  ag- 
gravating, and  was  the 
cause  of  much  profanity. 
There  were  times  when, 
owing  to  circumstances 
which  it  could  not  control, 
the  army  in  the  field  was 
put  on  short  rations.  Of- 
ten in  these  straits  bacon 
v^as  issued  that  had  out- 
lived its  usefulness,  except, 
perhaps,  for  the  manufac- 
fe  <^^     Ci^*^  ture  of  soap.    Improperly 

cured,  it  was  strong  and 
ALL  RIGHT,  BOSS,  dat's  A  GO."  rancid,  and  sometimes  so 
near  a  condition  of  putrefaction  that  the  stench  from  it 
offended  the  nostrils  of  the  whole  camp.  At  other  times  it 
was  full  of  "skippers,"  that  tunneled  their  way  through 
and  through  it  and  grew  fat  with  riotous  living.  Si  in 
time  reached  the  point  where  he  could  eat  almost  any- 
thing, but  he  drew  the  line  at  putrid  and  maggoty  meat. 
Whenever  he  got  any  of  this  he  would  trade  it  off  to  the 
darkies  for  chickens. 


COFFEE,   THE  SOLDIER's  ELIXIR.  207 

By  a  gradual  process  of  development  his  palate  became 
so  educated  that  he  could  eat  his  fat  pork  perfectly  raw. 
During  a  brief  halt  when  on  the  march  he  would  squat  in 
a  fence  corner,  go  down  into  his  haversack  for  supplies, 
cut  a  slice  of  bacon,  lay  it  on  a  hardtack,  and  munch  them 
w^ith  a  keen  relish. 

Not  less  indispensable  to  the  soldier  than  either  of  the 
articles  already  mentioned  was  coffee.  If  he  had  a  reason- 
able supply  of  these  three  the  veteran  was  satisfied,  even 
though  for  weeks  at  a  time  he  got  nothing  else.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  decide  which  he  prized  most ;  but  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  if  forced  to  strike  one  of  them  from  the  bill  of 
fare,  not  one  in  a  hundred  would  have  marked  out  coffee« 
If  hardtack  or  bacon  ran  short,  it  could  be  eked  out  with 
odds  and  ends  picked  up  by  foraging,  but  there  was  noth- 
ing to  take  the  place  of  coffee.  It  was  an  elixir  to  the 
weary  body  and  drooping  spirit  after  a  fatiguing  march ; 
it  warmed  the  soldier  into  new  life  when  soaked  by  drench- 
ing rains  or  chilled  by  winter's  cold.  There  was  usually 
sugar  enough  to  sweeten  the  draught,  but  if  this  ran  out 
it  made  little  difference.  The  men  soon  learned  to  drink  it 
without  any  ''trimmings."  The  refreshing  and  invigor- 
ating effect  that  made  it  more  than  drink  was  the  same, 
though  the  taste  was  not  pampered  by  sugar  and  milk. 
The  latter  was  only  seen  at  rare  intervals,  and  by  a  fortu- 
nate few.  Cows  were  never  plenty  in  the  South,  and  the 
ravages  of  war  for  two  or  three  years  made  them  exceed- 
ingly scarce.  Now  and  then  a  forager  filled  his  canteen 
w^ith  milk,  and  a  dash  of  it  in  the  coffee-cups  of  his  com- 
rades gave  to  the  beverage  a  doubly  delicious  flavor.  Oc- 
casionally a  can  of  "condensed  milk"  was  recklessly 
bought  of  the  sutler,  at  the  price  of  a  week's  wages. 

As  a  general  thing,  coffee  was  issued  to  the  army  roasted, 
but  unground.  This  was  the  most  convenient  form  for 
transportation  in  sacks  or  barrrels.  More  than  that,  it 
insured  to  the  soldier  the  genuine  article.    Had  ground 


208  CONFEDERATE  BEVERAGES. 

coffee  been  furnislied,  the  virtue  of  the  contractors  would 
hardly  have  been  proof  against  the  temptation  to  put 
money  in  their  pockets  by  liberal  adulteration.  Whatever 
strength  it  had  would  soon  have  wasted  by  evaporation. 
So  it  was  sent  down  in  the  berry,  by  the  hundred  thousand 
pounds,  and  f he  bayonet  and  tin-cup  served  for  crushing 
purposes. 

Foraging  never  yielded  coffee,  because  during  the  war 
the  people  of  the  "  Confederacy"  had  none  to  speak  of. 
They  were  always  eager  to  get  it  in  the  way  of  ''dicker." 
When  the  Union  soldiers  drew  full  rations  they  often  had 
more  coffee  than  the^^  needed,  and  with  the  surplus  they 
could  buy  whatever  anybody  had  to  sell.  Chiccory,  peas 
and  even  beans  were  used  for  the  Confederate  army,  as 
Ycry  poor  and  stale  svibstitutes.  During  brief  periods  of 
''grace,  mercy  and  peace"  between  the  hostile  pickets, 
commercial  relations  were  often  established.  The  men  in 
gray  gladly  exchanged  tobacco,  of  which  they  had  plenty, 
for  coffee.  The  former  was  often  scarce  among  the  chewers 
and  smokers  in  the  Union  army,  and  such  a  barter  was 
equally  satisfactory  to  both. 

Another  beverage  that  used  to  cheer  but  not  inebriate, 
was  bean-soup.  The  army  bean  will  be  remembered  to  the 
end  of  life's  longest  span  as  one  of  the  features  of  the  war 
period.  It  was  not  that  the  beans  which  found  their  way 
to  the  front  were  radically  different  from  contemporaneous 
beans,  or  from  those  of  tj:ie  present  day — it  was  the  cook- 
ing and  its  results  that  caused  the  bean  to  be  so  deeply 
imbedded  in  the  soldier's  memory.  It  will  readily  be  ad- 
mitted that  beans  skillfully  baked  and  flavored  on  the  Bos- 
ton plan  are  seductive,  wholesome  and  nutritious.  It  may 
be  charitably  believed  that  whoever  gave  the  flatulent  bean 
a  place  in  the  army  ration  was  deluded  with  the  New  Eng- 
land idea.  Owing  to  the  lack  of  facilities  for  cooking,  how- 
ever, particularly  during  active  campaigns,  it  proved  a 
vexatious  disappointment.    Soldiers  lying  long  in  camp 


THE  ARMY  BEAN.  209 

were  partially  successful  in  their  prolonged  struggle  with 
the  bean.  In  some  cases  ovens  were  built  that  yielded  sat- 
isfactory returns.  But  soup  was  the  almost  universal  form 
in  which  the  bean  was  prepared.  And  such  soup  as  most 
of  it  was !  If  a  camp-kettle  could  be  had  it  was  usually 
made  in  a  wholesale  way  to  supply  a  mess  or  an  entire 
company.  The  men  took  their  turns  at  such  kinds  of 
cooking,  and  there  were  as  many  radicall}^  different  var- 
ieties of  bean-soup  as  there  were  men  to  make  it.  No 
two  of  them  ever  tasted  alike,  and  it  was  hard  to  tell 
which  was  the  worst.  It  was  not  more  than  half  cooked, 
or  else  it  was  burnt ;  it  was  as  thick  as  pudding,  or  the 
ratio  of  water  to  beans  was  so  large  as  to  make  it  pitifully 
feeble ;  it  was  either  salty  enough  to  pickle  pork  in,  or  the 
cook  that  day  had  forgotten  to  season  it  at  all;  one  cook 
poured  in  vinegar  to  suit  his  own  erratic  taste  and  spoiled 
it  for  everybody  else;  one  didn't  put  in  any  pork,  while 
another  boiled  so  much  grease  into  the  soup  that  it  could 
be  taken  into  few  stomachs  with  safety.  So  it  was  that  a 
kettle  of  bean-soup  rarely  failed  to  set  everybody  to  grum- 
bling. As  the  men  filed  past  and  dipped  their  cups  into  the 
kettle,  they  turned  up  their  noses  and  sniffed  contempt- 
uously and  indulged  the  most  pointed  remarks  reflecting 
upon  theskill  of  the  cook  who  had  made  such  a  mess.  Dur- 
ing the  weeks  and  months  of  marching  and  fighting  the 
bean  fell  into  disuse.  It  was  "every man  for  himself,"  and 
if  beans  were  issued  at  all— which  was  not  often — each  man 
v/as  forced  to  put  his  little  handful  into  his  coffee-kettle  and 
make  his  own  soup.  One  disadvantage  of  this  necessity 
vsras  that  if  the  soup  did  not  suit  him  he  was  deprived  of 
the  pleasure  of  grumbling  at  somebody  else.  If,  at  such 
times,  rations  were  short  the  soldier  contrived  some  way 
to  utilize  his  beans ;  if  he  had  plenty  of  other  food  he  threw 
them  away. 

Rice  was  issued  at  stated  periods  when  the  proper  con- 
nections were  kept  up  and  things  ran  smoothly.    It  was  a 


210 

healthy  article  of  diet,  but  the  cooking  caused  almost  as 
much  tribulation  as  in  the  case  of  the  bean.  An  inexperi- 
enced hand,  ignorant  of  its  habit  of  ''swelling,"  would  fill 
his  kettle  with  rice  and  hang  it  over  the  fire.  Pretty  soon 
it  would  begin  to  flow  over  the  top  and  down  the  sides  of 
the  kettle  like  the  eruption  of  a  volcano,  while  the  ama- 
teur cook  looked  on  in  amazement. 

The  pungent  and  tear-starting  onion  was  a  favorite 
esculent.  Few  of  them  found  their  way  to  the  front,  how- 
ever, till  the  last  year  or  two  of  the  war,  when  thousands 
of  barrels  were  sent  to  the  soldiers  by  the  sanitary  com- 
mission. The  doctors  said  they  were  good  to  prevent 
scurvy.  They  were  not  a  part  of  the  ration  furnished  by 
the  government.  Onions  were  seized  with  avidity  and 
eaten,  generally  raw,  wnth  a  keen  zest. 

In  the  fall  of  1863  the  soldiers  in  the  field  began  to  re- 
ceive queer  looking  slabs  about  a  foot  square  and  an  inch 
thick.  The  many  colors  and  shapes  of  their  component 
parts  gave  them  much  the  appearance  of  the  modem 
"crazy  quilt."  At  first  they  were  a  stubborn  conundrum 
to  the  boys,  who,  after  a  critical  inspection  with  eye  and 
nose,  concluded  they  must  be  some  new  style  of  forage  for 
the  mules.  They  were  "desiccated  vegetables,"  for  the 
human  stomach.  They  contained  a  little  of  almost  every- 
thing in  the  vegetable  world— potatoes,  corn,  cabbage, 
beets,  carrots,  parsnips,  onions,  peppers,  etc.,  to  the  end 
of  the  list,  together  with  what  seemed  to  be  cornstalks, 
potato-tops  and  pea-vines.  The  ingredients  were  cut 
into  slices  and  mixed  with  the  utmost  impartiality.  They 
were  pressed  by  steam  or  hj^draulic  power  into  cakes  of 
the  size  described,  and  thoroughly  dried.  In  this  form 
they  w^ould  "keep"  for  an  indefinite  time.  Every  drop  of 
juice  v^as  squeezed  or  evaporated  out  of  them,  so  that 
there  was  little  left  except  the  fiber.  The  veterans  made 
no  end  of  sport  of  the  motley  mixture.  Its  scientific  name 
was   immediately  changed  to  "desecrated"  or  "conse- 


THE  REGULAR   '* RATION."  211 

crated  "  vegetables,  and  it  was  rarely  called  by  any  other. 
But  they  liked  the  soup  it  made.  This  was  both  palatable 
and  nourishing,  and  was  a  most  welcome  change  from  the 
stereotyped  fare.  It  ''swelled"  in  the  kettle  even  more 
than  rice.  A  cubic  inch  of  the  ' '  stuff' '  would  make  a  quart 
of  soup. 

It  may  interest  the  reader  to  give  the  ''ration" — the 
established  daily  allowance  of  food  for  one  person — as  pro- 
vided by  the  army  regulations  at  that  time.  It  was  com- 
posed as  follows:  twelve  ounces  of  pork  or  bacon  or 
twenty  ounces  of  salt  or  fresh  beef;  twenty-two  ounces  of 
soft  bread  or  flour,  or  one  pound  of  hard  bread— [hard- 
tack]— or  twenty  ounces  of  corn  meal ;  and  to  every  one 
hundred  men  fifteen  pounds  of  beans  or  peas,  ten  pounds 
of  rice  or  hominy,  eight  pounds  of  roasted  coffee,  or 
twenty-four  ounces  of  tea,  fifteen  pounds  of  sugar,  four 
quarts  of  vinegar,  twenty  ounces  of  candles,  four  pounds 
of  soap,  four  pounds  of  salt,  four  ounces  of  pepper,  thirty 
pounds  of  potatoes  and  one  quart  of  molasses.  This  was 
the  ration  as  it  existed  when  the  war  broke  out.  During 
the  first  year,  however,  evidently  to  meet  the  wants  of 
such  lusty  fellows  as  Si  Klegg,  Congress  passed  an  act  in- 
creasing the  allowance  of  several  of  the  items — notablj 
potatoes,  of  which  each  man  was  to  have  one  pound  three 
times  a  week,  "when  practicable."  This  sounded  well, 
but  the  condition  spoiled  it.  Rarely  indeed  was  it  "prac 
ticable  "  to  issue  a  pound  of  potatoes  once  in  six  months. 
The  only  potatoes  the  soldiers  in  the  field  had  were  those 
they  got  by  foraging.  Tea,  as  an  optional  alternative  for 
coffee,  did  not  figure  largely  in  the  war.  A  few  nice  young 
men  fresh  from  home  called  for  it,  but  the  veteran  spoke 
of  it  only  with  scorn.  Tea  was  too  "thin  "  a  beverage  on 
which  to  put  down  the  rebellion.  Most  of  the  less  impor- 
tant items  in  the  "ration'  were  only  seen  at  long  inter- 
Tals  during  the  last  or  *  *  fighting ' '  year.    It  was  hardtack, 


212  THE  SUTLER. 

bacon  and  coffee,  with  sugar  and  salt  for  condiments,  that 
furnished  the  nerve  and  muscle  to  carry  on  the  war. 

Like  all  raw  soldiers,  Si  Klegg  learned  with  exceeding 
great  joy,  that  there  was  such  a  person  in  the  army  as  the 
sutler.  It  was  usually  many  weeks — months  in  some 
cases — before  the  new.  troops  could  become  reconciled  to 
the  regulation  diet,  and  this  gave  the  sutler  his  oppor- 
tunity. He  reaped  a  rich  harvest  and  made  a  fortune,  pro- 
vided he  had  a  fair  chance  at  a  new  regiment  for  six  months. 
But  his  business  enterprise  had  its  drawbacks.  When  the 
army  was  on  the  jump  he  often  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  He 
usually  had  a  couple  of  large  wagons,  in  which  he  trans- 
ported his  goods  and  the  big  tent  that  he  pitched  as  often 
as  circumstances  would  permit.  Of  course  he  had  to  fur- 
nish his  own  teams,  and  half  a  dozen  men,  black  and  white, 
to  manage  them  and  do  his  work.  He  always  had  to  look 
out  for  himself  and  take  his  own  chances.  A  sutler's  wagon 
was  a  ''bonanza"  to  a  band  of  rebel  "looters,"  and  he 
often  suffered  in  this  way  from  the  capture  of  his  entire 
outfit.  This  was,  however,  but  a  temporary  reverse,  for 
he  would  mark  up  the  prices  on  his  next  load  of  goods  and 
thus  retrieve  his  loss. 

If  his  wagons  stuck  in  the  mud,  or  his  mule-power  was 
insufficient  to  pull  them  up  a  steep  hill,  the  boys  might 
lend  a  hand  to  help  him  out ;  but  if  they  did  they  wanted  a 
good  share  of  what  he  had  as  compensation  for  their  ser- 
vices. If  he  demurred  they  would  settle  the  matter  by 
helping  themselves.  He  was  regarded  as  an  Ishmaelite^ 
and  every  man's  hand  was  against  him.  If  a  wagon  cap- 
sized, the  scattered  boxes  and  cans  and  bottles  of  eatables 
and  drinkables  were  deemed  legitimate  plunder,  and  a 
nightly  foray  upon  the  ''shebang"  was  considered  justi- 
fiable larceny.  When  the  soldiers  ran  out  of  money  the 
sutler  issued  "checks,"  to  be  redeemed  the  next  pay-day. 
When  a  battle  intervened,  or  the  hardships  of  campaign- 
ing sent  scores  to  the  hospitals,  the  sutler  failed  to  realize^ 


213 

Then  up  would  go  the  prices  again,  to  make  good  the  def- 
icit. The  sutler  did  not  like  the  smell  of  powder,  and 
\\rhen  a  fight  was  imminent  he  prudently  stayed  behind. 
When  all  was  quiet  again  he  would  crack  his  whip,  push 
to  the  front,  and  open  up  his  seductive  stock.  The  sutler 
of  a  full,  new  regiment  sometimes  took  desperate  chances 
In  following  it  closely,  for  the  money  rolled  in  at  a  rate 
most  gratifying  to  that  worshiper  of  mammon.  When 
the  paj^master  was  around  he  never  failed  to  be  there. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Si  Gets  a  Letter  from  Annabel  and  Answers  It  under  Difficulties. 

i  i  i^RDERLIES  for  your  mail!"  shouted  the  sergeant- 
\_J  major  of  the  200th  Indiana  one  afternoon.  The 
regiment  had  just  turned  into  a  tobacco  patch  to  bivouac 
for  the  night.  It  had  been  marching  for  a  w^eek,  and  this 
was  the  first  mail  that  had  caught  up  with  it.  During  all 
this  time  the  boys  had  not  heard  a  w^ord  from  their  moth- 
ers, sisters,  wives  and  sweethearts.  It  was  only  a  fortnight 
since  they  left  home,  but  it  seemed  to  them  as  if  the^^  had 
been  gone  a  year.  If  Si  Klegg  had  been  Robinson  Crusoe 
he  could  not  have  felt  more  lonegome  and  forsaken. 

The  eagerness  of  the  soldiers  to  receive  letters  could  have 
been  equaled  onl}^  b}-  the  anxious  watching  of  those  at  home 
for  tidings  from  their  loved  ones.  There  was  no  literature 
in  the  army  w^orth  mentioning.  The  men  were  not  long  in 
learning  that  they  could  not  carry  books  on  their  backs. 
There  was  nothing  in  the  way  of  reading  matter  for  those 
in  active  service  save  an  occasional  volume  picked  up  here 
or  there,  or  a  chance  newspaper,  generally  a  week  or  two 
old.    These  circulated  among  the  soldiers  until  they  were 


214  LETTER-WRITING  IN  THE  ARMY. 

literally  read  to  pieces.  Correspondence  and  "keeping 
diaries  "were  the  means  resorted  to  by  thousands  to  while 
away  hours  and  days  that  would  otherwise  have  hung 
heavily.  There  was  never  a  lack  of  ''something  to  write 
about,"  although  circumstances  were  often  unfavorable. 
Frequently,  for  weeks  at  a  time,  only  the  briefest  letters 
were  possible.  In  moments  snatched  during  intervals  of 
respite  from  duty— in  a  fence-corner,  while  resting  from  the 
march,  or  during  the  ''off"  hours  of  guard  and  picket; 
under  the  blazing  sun,  or  in  drizzling  rain;  by  the  light  of  a 
bit  of  candle  stuck  in  the  shank  of  a  bayonet,  or  the  flame 
of  the  camp-fire,  a  vast  multitude  of  messages  of  affection 
and  friendship  were  written. 

Writing  materials  were  often  scarce— sometimes  they 
could  not  be  procured  at  all.  He  was  fortunate  who  had 
pen  and  ink;  generally  a  pencil  was  used,  going  around 
from  one  to  another  until  worn  out.  In  times  of  scarcity 
odd  bits  of  paper,  of  every  kind  and  color,  were  pressed 
into  the  service.  The  envelopes  of  letters  received  were 
"turned  "  and  sent  back  to  Northern  homes  inclosing  mis- 
sives from  the  front.  The  sutlers  kept  supplies  of  station- 
ery, which  they  sold  at  a  profit  of  about  a  thousand  per 
cent.,  but  they  did  not  often  "show  up"  during  active 
campaigns.  The  soldiers  could  not  get  far  enough  to  the 
rear  to  find  them.  Postage-stamps  were  a  necessity,  for 
Uncle  Sam  did  not  relax  his  thrifty  rule  requiring  prepay- 
ment. At  times  it  was  almost  impossible  to  obtain  them, 
and  they  commanded  a  high  premium.  To  keep  the  boys 
supplied  with  stationery— or  to  try,  at  least— was  consid- 
ered to  be  one  of  the  duties  of  the  chaplains.  Few  of  them 
had  a  chance  to  preach  a  great  deal,  so  they  did  not  have 
to  spend  much  time  in  theological  study.  Many  devoted 
themselves  very  faithfully  to  the  temporal  comforts  of  the 
men ;  some  drew  their  pay  with  great  promptness,  three- 
fourths  of  the  time  far  in  the  rear.  The  constant  demand 
for  stationery  was  partially  met  by  supplies  sent  to  the 


CARRYING  THE  MAILS.  215 

soldiers  by  their  friends,  but  these  were  freely  shared  with 
comrades  and  soon  disappeared. 

Great  irregularity  in  the  transmission  of  the  mails  was 
unavoidable.  When  lying  quietly  in  camp,  on  or  near  a 
line  of  railroad,  a  daily  mail  was  the  rule,  with  occasional 
exceptions  when  a  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  swooped 
down  and  captured  a  train,  tore  up  the  track,  or  burned 
a  bridge.  In  the  confusion  following  a  great  battle,  a  week 
or  ten  days  sometimes  elapsed  before  letters  reached  the 
soldiers,  or  any  could  be  sent  by  them  to  relieve  the  sus- 
pense of  their  friends  at  home.  On  the  long  campaigns, 
when  the  army  was  constantly  shifting  about,  miles  from 
its  line  of  communication,  mails  rarely  averaged  oftener 
than  once  a  week ;  frequently  no  letters  were  received  or 
sent  for  two  or  three  weeks  at  a  time.  Enormous  quanti- 
ties then  accumulated,  and  when  opportunity  offered  were 
sent  to  the  front  by  the  wagon  load  and  distributed  to  the 
various  corps,  divisions  and  brigades.  Each  of  these  had 
its  postmaster,  whose  duty  it  w^as  to  attend  to  the  distri- 
bution and  collection  of  mail  matter.  During  the  last  j^ear 
or  two  of  the  war  the  postal  service  of  the  army  reached 
a  high  state  of  efficiency,  affording  to  the  soldiers  every 
facility  that  circumstances  would  permit  for  communicat- 
ing with  their  friends.  Efforts  to  this  end  were  well  ap- 
plied, for  nothing  contributed  more  to  promote  cheerfulness 
and  content  among  the  soldiers. 

When  the  intervals  were  long,  much  anxiety  and  impa- 
tience were  manifested.  Perhaps  toward  the  close  of  a 
fatiguing  day's  march  the  long-looked-for  brigade  post- 
master was  seen  on  a  sprightly  mule,  galloping  beside  the 
toiling  column. 

''Mail  when  you  git  to  camp,  boys !  " 

Then  what  a  wild  yell  went  up !  How  the  weary  men 
straightened  their  backs  and  stretched  away  for  the  halt- 
ing place !  No  general  was  ever  received  w^ith  more  tumult- 
uous huzzas  than  was  the  brigade  postmaster. 


216 


AT  THE  FRONT. 


Sometimes  the  mail  was  taken  to  the  front  and  dis- 
tributed to  the  men  as  they  stood  in  the  trenches.  The 
shouts  that  greeted  the  orderlies  with  their  armfuls  of 
letters  were  enough  to  make  the  rebels  quake  in  their  shoes. 
Then  if  word  was  passed  along  the  line  that  the  mail 
would  ''go  out"  in  a  couple  of  hours,  everybody  engaged 


"mail  when  yod  git  to  camp,  boys!" 

in  the  quest  for  writing  materials.  Hastily  they  indited 
their  messages,  in  all  conceivable  postures— standing,  sit- 
ting, kneeling  or  lying  flat  upon  the  ground— perhaps 
now  and  then  dropping  the  pencil  and  taking  up  the 
musket  to  fire  at  a  ''Johnny"  who  was  getting  too  free 
with  his  bullets.  Occasionally  a  mail  was  captured  by  the 
enemy.     Tidings  of  such  a  calamity  generally  prompted 


CORRESPONDENTS. 


217 


the  boys  to  put  an  extra  charge  or  two  of  powder  into 
their  guns  by  way  of  revenge. 

Thousands  of  soldiers  had  *' unknown"  correspondents 
of  the  tender  sex,  scattered  all  over  the  North,  the  result 
of  advertising  in  the  newspapers.  It  may  be  admitted 
that  under  ordinary  conditions  such  a  custom  ought  not  to 
be  encouraged,  as  trenching  on  dangerous  ground ;  still  it 
is  true  that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  the  correspond- 


EPISTOLARY  WORK  IX  THE  TREXXHES. 

€nce  of  this  kind  during  the  war  was  innocent  and  harm- 
less. The  soldiers  in  long  periods  of  inaction  needed  enter- 
tainment and  occupation,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
patriotic  and  sympathetic  young  women  were  ready  to 
aid  them  through  the  medium  of  pen,  ink  and  postage 
stamps.  A  single  insertion  of  ''Wanted,  correspondence  " 
In  a  largely  circulating  paper,  often  brought  a  shower  of 
two  or  three  dozen  dainty  missives.  To  answer  them  all 
would  keep  their  recipient  busy  for  a  week.    No  doubt 


218  DIARIES  THAT  LIVED  AND   DIED. 

some  of  these  epistolary  acquaintanceships  matured  into 
the  closest  and  dearest  relations  when  the  war  was  over ; 
though  it  is  not  probable  that  more'than  one  m  a  hundred 
gave  to  such  correspondence  a  thought  beyond  a  passing 
pleasure,  spiced  with  a  flavor  of  romance.  If  some  of  the 
soldiers  secured  good  wives  in  this  irregular  way  it  was 
well,  for  is  it  not  a  recognized  axiom  that  "none  but  the 
brave  deserve  the  fair?  " 

Nearly  every  soldier  started  out  with  a  firm  determina- 
tion to  keep  a  diary,  and  began  the  daily  record  with  com- 
mendable zeal.  Possibly  one  in  fifty  held  out  faithful  to 
the  end.  It  was  eas}^  enough  to  do  it  while  lying  in  camp, 
but  on  a  hard  campaign  the  diar\^  would  get  so  far  behind 
that  it  was  too  great  a  job  to  bring  up  the  arrears,  and 
the  enterprise  was  very  likely  to  be  abandoned  in  disgust. 
Another  discouraging  feature  was  the  fact  that  the  acci- 
dents of  marching  and  fighting  often  caused  the  loss  of 
diaries.  The  persistent  and  methodical  diary-keeper  wrote 
concisely  in  a  small  book  that  he  carried  in  his  pocket. 
When  it  was  full  he  sent  it  home  by  mail  or  by  the  hand  of 
a  comrade,  and  started  a  fresh  one.  Many  were  lost  in 
transmission,  and  that  man  was  fortunate  who  had  both 
the  perse  verance  to  ''keep  up"  his  diary,  and  the  goodluck 
to  lose  none  of  his  volumes.  If  the  soldiers  had  foreseen 
the  uses  for  such  records  that  have  been  developed  since 
the  war,  half  a  million  diaries  that  died  early  would  have 
survived. 

*'Now  tumble  up  here.  Company  Q,  an'  git  yer  letters !  " 
yelled  the  orderly,  as  he  came  down  from  headquarters. 

In  the  excitement  of  distributing  the  maileverj^thing  else 
was  forgotten.  The  boys  were  all  busy  getting  their  sup- 
pers, but  at  the  thought  of  letters  from  home  even  the  de- 
mands of  hunger  were  not  considered. 

Si  left  his  coffee-pot  to  tip  over  into  the  fire,  and  his- 
bacon  to  sizzle  in  the  frying-pan,  as  he  elbowed  his  way 
into  the  crowd  that  huddled  around  the  orderly. 


MAIL  FOR  COMPANY  Q. 


219 


*'If  there  ain't  more  'n  one  letter  for  me,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, **I  hope  it'll  be  from  Annabel;  but,  of  course,  I'd  like 
to  hear  from  ma  and  sister  Marier,  too !  " 

The  orderly,  with  a  big  package  in  his  hand,  was  calling 
out  the  names,  and  as  the  boys  received  their  letters  they 
scattered  through  the  camp,  squatting  about  on  rails  or 
on  the  ground,  devouring  with  the  greatest  eagerness  the 
welcome  messages  from  home.  The  camp  looked  as  if 
there  had  been  a  snow  storm. 

Si  waited  anxiously  to  hear  his  name  called,  as  the 
pile  of  letters  rapidly 
grew  smaller,  and 
began  to  think  he 
was  going  to  get 
left. 

*'Josiah  Klegg!" 
at  length  shouted 
the  orderly,  as  he 
held  out  two  letters. 
Si  snatched  them 
from  his  hand,  went 
off  by  himself  and 
sat  down  on  a  log. 

He  looked  at  his 
letters  and  saw  that 
one  of  them  was  ad- 
dressed in  a  pretty 
hand.  He  had  never  received  a  letter  from  Annabel  before, 
but  he  **felt  it  in  his  bones"  that  this  one  was  from  her. 
He  glanced  around  to  be  certain  nobody  was  looking  at 
him,  and  gently  broke  the  seal,  while  a  ruddy  glow  over- 
spread his  beardless  cheeks.  But  he  was  secure  from 
observation,  as  everybody  else  was  similarl}^  intent. 

*'Deer  Si,"  the  letter  began.  He  didn't  have  to  turn 
over  to  the  bottom  of  the  last  page  to  know  what  name 
he  would  find  there.    He  read  those  w^ords  over  and  over 


-    f 


^^ 


SI  S  FIRST  LETTER. 


220  ANNABEL'S  NICE  LETTER. 

a  dozen  times,  and  they  set  his  nerves  tingling  clear  down 
to  his  toe-nails.  Si  forgot  his  aches  and  blisters  as  he  read 
on  through  those  delicious  lines. 

She  wrote  how  anxious  she  was  to  hear  from  him,  and 
how  cruel  it  w^as  of  him  not  to  write  to  her  real  often; 
how  she  lay  awake  nights  thinking  about  him  down 
among  those  awful  rebels ;  how  she  supposed  that  by  this 
time  he  must  be  full  of  bullet  holes ;  and  didn't  he  get 
hungry  sometimes,  and  wasn't  it  about  time  for  him  to 
get  a  furlough?  how  it  was  just  too  mean  for  anything 
that  those  men  down  South  had  to  get  up  a  war ;  how 
proud  she  was  of  Si,  because  he  had  'listed,  and  how  she 
watched  the  newspapers  everyday  to  see  something  about 
him ;  how  she  wondered  how  many  rebds  he  had  killed, 
and  if  he  had  captured  any  batteries  yet— she  said  she 
didn't  quite  know  what  batteries  were,  but  she  read  a 
good  deal  about  capturing  'em,  and  she  supposed  it  was 
something  all  the  soldiers  did ;  how  she  hoped  he  wouldn't 
forget  her,  and  she'd  like  to  see  how  he  looked  now  that 
he  was  a  real  soldier,  and  her  father  had  sold  the  old 
*'mooley"  cow,  and  Sally  Perkins  was  engaged  to  Jim 
Johnson,  who  had  stayed  at  home,  but  as  for  herself  she 
wouldn't  have  anybody  but  a  soldier  about  the  size  of  Si, 
and  'Squire  Jones's  son  had  been  trying  to  shine  up  to  her 
and  cut  Si  out,  but  she  sent  him  off  with  a  flea  in  his  ear— 
''Yours  till  deth,  Annabel." 

There  was  a  postscript,  as  a  matter  of  course ;  no  truly 
patriotic  young  woman  during  the  whole  war  ever  wrote 
a  letter  to  her  soldier-lover  without  one.  This  contained 
an  irregular  diagram  intended  as  an  unsatisfactory  sub- 
stitute for  a  kiss.  She  wrote  that  if  he  did  not  know  what 
that  meant  she  would  explain  it  to  him  when  he  got  home. 
Si  was  not  versed  in  the  subtleties  of  amatory  correspond- 
ence, and  the  diagram  was  a  serious  conundrum  to  him. 
Once  he  thought  he  would  ask  Shorty  about  it,  and  then 
he  concluded  on  the  whole,  he  had  better  not. 


SI  HAS  TO   CARRY  A  RAIL. 


221 


The  fact  that  there  was  a  word  misspelt  now  and  then 
did  not  detract  in  the  least  from  the  letter,  so  pleasing  to 
Si.  In  fact,  he  was  a  little  lame  in  orthography  himself, 
so  that  he  had  neither  the  ability  nor  the  disposition  to 
scan  Annabel's  pages  with  a  critic's  eye.  He  was  happy, 
and  as  he  began  to  cast  about  for  his  supper  he  even  viewed 
with  complacence  his  bacon  burned  to  a  crisp  and  his 
capsized  coffee-pot  helplessly  melting  away  in  the  fire. 

''Well,  Si,  what  does  shesay  ?  "  said  one  of  hiscomrades. 

' '  What  does  who  say  ? ' ' 
replied  Si,  getting  red  in 
the  face,  and  bristling  up 
and  trying  to  assume  an 
air  of  indifference. 

"Just  look  here  now, 
Si,  ye  can't  play  that  on 
me.  How  about  that 
rosy -cheeked  gal  up  in 
Injianny?" 

Itv^as  Si's  tender  spot. 
He  hadn't  got  used  to 
that  sort  of  thing  yet, 
and  he  felt  that  the  emo- 
tions that  made  his  heart 
throb  like  a  saw -mill 
were  too  sacred  to  be 
trifled  with.  Acting  up- 
on a  sudden  impulse  he 
smote  his  comrade  fairly  between  the  eyes,  felling  him  to 
the  ground. 

The  orderly,  who  happened  to  be  near,  took  Si  by  the 
car  and  marched  him  up  to  the  captain's  quarters. 

"Have  him  carry  a  rail  in  front  of  my  tent  for  an  hour !  "^ 
thundered  the  captain.  "Don't  let  it  be  a  splinter,  either; 
pick  out  a  good  heavy  one." 

The  order  was  carried  out  immediately.    It  was  verjr 


ANOTHER  CASE  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


222  GETTING  READY  TO  WRITE. 

mortifying  to  Si,  and  he  would  have  been  almost  heart- 
broken had  he  not  been  comforted  by  the  thought  that  it 
was  all  for  Annabel. 

As  soon  as  the  hour  was  up  and  he  had  eaten  supper, 
he  set  about  answering  his  letter.  When  he  cleaned  out 
the  surplusage  from  his  knapsack,  he  had  hung  on  to  the 
pretty  portfolio  that  his  sister  gave  him .  This  was  stocked 
with  postage  stamps  and  writing  materials,  including  an 
assortment  of  the  envelopes  of  the  period,  bearing  in  gaudy 
colors  national  emblems,  stirring  legends,  and  harrowing 
scenes  of  slaughter,  all  intended  to  quicken  the  patriotic 
emotions  and  make  the  breast  of  the  soldier  a  very  volcano 
of  martial  ardor. 

When  Si  got  out  his  nice  portfolio  he  found  it  to  be  an 
utter  wreck.  It  had  been  jammed  into  a  shapeless  mass, 
and,  besides  this,  it  had  been  soaked  with  rain ;  paper  and 
envelopes  were  a  pulpy  ruin,  and  the  postage  stamps  were 
stuck  around  here  and  therein  the  chaos.  It  was  plain  that 
this  memento  of  home  had  fallen  an  early  victim  to  the 
hardships  of  campaign  life. 

''It's  no  use;  'tain't  no  good!  "  said  Si,  sorrowfully,  as 
he  tossed  the  debris  into  the  fire,  after  vainly  endeavoring 
to  save  from  the  wreck  enough  to  write  his  letter. 

Then  he  went  to  the  sutler— or  ''skinner,"  as  he  was  bet- 
ter  known — and  paid  ten  cents  for  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an 
envelope,  on  which  were  the  cheerful  words,  "It  is  sweet 
to  die  for  one's  country !  "  and  ten  cents  more  for  a  3-cent 
postage  stamp.  He  borrowed  a  lead  pencil,  hunted  up  a 
piece  of  cracker-box,  sat  down  and  began  his  work  by  the 
flickering  light  of  the  fire. 

Deer  Annie. 

There  he  stopped,  and  while  he  was  scratching  his  head 
and  thinking  what  he  would  say  next,  the  orderly  came 
around  detailing  guards  for  the  night,  and  directed  Klegg 
to  get  his  traps  and  report  at  once  for  duty. 

"It  hain't  my  turn,"  said  Si.    "There's  Bill  Brown,  and 


SI  GETS  ON  SLOWLY. 


223 


Jake  Schneider,  and  Pat  Dooley,  and  a  dozen  more— I've 
been  on  since  they  have !" 

But  the  orderly  did  not  even  deign  to  reply.  Si's  shoul- 
der still  ached  from  the  rail  he  had  carried,  so  he  quietly 
folded  up  his  paper  and  took  his  place  with  the  detail. 

The  next  morning  the  army  moved  early,  and  Si  had  no 
chance  to  resume  his  letter.  As  soon  as  the  regiment 
halted,  after  an  cfighteen  mile  march,  he  tackled  it  again. 
This  time  nothing  better  offered  in  the  way  of  a  writing- 
desk  than  a  tin  plate,  which  he  placed  face  downward 
upon  his  knee.  Thus  pro- 
vided, Si  plunged  briskly 
into  the  job  before  him, 
with  the  following  result : 

I  now  take  my  pen  in  hand  to 
let  you  no  that  I  am  well,  ex- 
cept the  dog-goned  blisters  on 
my  feet,  and  1  hope  these  few 
lines  may  find  j-ou  enjoyin  the 
same  blessins. 

Si  thought  this  was  neat 
and  a  good  start  for  his 
letter.  Just  as  he  had 
caught  an  idea  for  the  next 
sentence  a  few  scattering 

shots  were  heard  on  the  "sit  still,  please. 

picket-line,  and  in  an  instant  the  camp  was  in  commotion. 
Cries  of  ''Fall  in !"  ''Be  lively,  men !"  were  heard  in  every 
direction. 

Si  sprang  as  if  he  had  received  a  galvanic  shock,  cram- 
ming the  letter  into  his  pocket.  Of  course  there  wasn't 
any  fight.  It  was  only  one  of  the  scares  that  formed  so 
large  a  part  of  the  early  campaigns.  But  it  spoiled  Si's 
letter- writing  for  the  time. 

It  was  nearly  a  week  before  he  got  his  letter  done.  He 
wrote  part  of  it  using  for  a  desk  the  back  of  a  comrade 
who  was  sitting  asleep  by  the  fire.     He  worked  at  it 


224  HIS  LETTER  TO  ANNIE. 

whenever  lie   could   catch  a   few   minutes   between   tli« 

marches  and  the  numerous  details  for  duty.    He  said  to 

Annie : 

Bein  a  soljer  aint  quite  what  they  crack  it  up  to  be  when  they're  gittin 
a  fellow  to  enlist.  It's  mity  rough,  and  you'd  better  believe  it.  You 
ought  to  be  glad  you're  a  gurl  and  don't  haf  to  go.  I  wish't  I  was  a 
gurl,  sometimes.  I  haven't  kild  enny  rebbles  yet.  I  haint  even  seen  one 
except  a  fiew  raskils  that  was  tuk  in  by  the  critter  soljers,  they  calls  em 
cavilry  Me  and  all  the  rest  of  the  boys  wants  to  hav  a  fite,  but  it  looks 
like  the  Ginral  was  afeard,  and  we  don't  git  no  chance.  I  axed  the 
Ordly  couldn't  he  get  me  a  furlow.  The  Ordly  jest  laft  and  says  to  me, 
Si,  says  he,  yer  don't  know  as  much  as  a  mule.  I  made  one  of  the  boys 
see  stars  tother  night  because  he  was  a-talkin  'bout  you.  The  Captn 
made  me  walk  up  and  down  for  a  hour  with  a  big  rail  on  my  sholeder. 
You  tell  Square  Joneses  boy  that  he  haint  got  sand  enuff  to  jine  the 
army,  and  if  he  dont  keep  away  from  you  He  bust  his  eer  when  I  git 
home,  if  I  ever  do.  Whattle  you  do  if  I  shouldn't  never  see  you  agin? 
But  3^ou  no  this  'glorus  Govyment  must  be  pertected,  and  the  bully 
Stars  and  Strips  must  flote,  and  your  Si  is  goin  to  help  do  it. 

My  pen  is  poor  my  ink  is  pale 

M.y  luv  for  you  shall  never  fale. 
Yours  affeckshnitly, 

Si  Klegg. 


.     CHAPTER  XVII. 

Ik  Which  Si's  Cherished  Desire  to  Drive  a  Mule  Team  is  Full^t 

Satisfied. 

i  (  T  'VE  got  to  have  a  man  to  drive  the  colonel's  team  for 
X     a  few  days,"  said  the  orderly  of  Company  Q  one 
morning  at  roll-call.     *'The  teamster's  sick,  and  he's  got 
to  go  to  the  hospital  to-day." 

He  didn't  tell  the  boys  what  ailed  the  teamster,  thinking, 
perhaps,  that  if  he  did  no  one  would  want  to  take  his  place. 
The  fact  was  that  the  heels  of  the  '' off- wheeler  "  caught 
the  teamster  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach  and  doubled  him  up 


THE  MAKE-UP   OF  AN  ARMY  TEAM.  225 

£0  badlythat  hewouldn't  be  fitfordutyfor  a  week.  It  was 
worse  than  the  colic. 

"'Tisn't  evervbodv,"  continued  the  orderh^  ''that's 
gifted  with  fust-class  talent  fer  drivin'  team.  I'd  like  to 
find  the  best  man  to  steer  them  animals,  an'  if  there's  a 
real  scientific  mule-whacker  in  this  comp'ny  let  him  speak 
up,  and  I'll  detail  him  right  off.  It'll  be  a  soft  thing  fer 
somebody;  them  mules  are  daisies!" 

Somehow  they  didn't  all  speak  at  once.  The  reg- 
iment had  only  had  its  teams  two  or  three  weeks, 
but  the  boys  were  not  dull  of  hearing,  and  ominous  sounds 
had  come  to  them  from  the  rear  of  the  camp  at  all  hours 
of  the  night— the  maddening  ' '  Yee-haw-w-w ! "  of  the  long 
eared  brutes,  and  the  frantic  ejaculations  of  the  teamsters, 
spiced  with  oaths  that  would  have  sent  a  shudder  througk 
"our  army  in  Flanders." 

So  they  did  not  apply  for  the  vacant  saddle  with  the 
alacrity  that  might  have  been  expected,  when  so  good  a 
chance  was  offered  for  a  soldier  to  ride  and  get  his  traps  on 
a  wagon.  Whenever  an  infantryman  threw  away  such 
an  opportunity^  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  there  was  some 
good  reason  for  it. 

The  motive  power  of  an  army  wagon  usually  consisted  of 
six  mules .  Two  large  animals,  called  the ' '  wheelers, ' '  one  of 
which  the  charioteer  bestrode,  were  '  'hooked"  to  the  wagon. 
Next  were  two  of  medium  size,  designated  in  the  drivers' 
parlance  as  the  "swing  team."  Ahead  were  two  small 
mules  known  as  the ' '  leaders . ' '  These  were  sometimes  called 
** rabbits,"  by  reason  of  their  diminutive  size  and  great 
length  of  ears .  The  menagerie  was  '  'steered  "  by  a  single  line, 
fastened  to  the  bit  of  the  "nigh  leader."  The  driver  man- 
aged the  rein  with  one  hand  and  his  whip  with  the  other. 
Practice  made  him  equally  adept  in  the  use  of  both.  The 
whip  was  a  barbarous  affair,  with  a  long,  stinging  lash, 
that,  when  there  came  a  hard  pull,  would  fairly  singe  the 
quivering  flanks  of  the  mules,  or  crack  like  a  pistol-shot 


226 


AN  IMPORTANT  FACTOR  IN  THE  WAR. 


as  the  driver  snapped  it  above  their  heads.  A  man  was 
not  thought  fit  to  drive  a  team  unless  he  could,  four  times 
out  of  five,  pick  a  fly  from  the  ear  of  a  swing  mule  with 
the  tip  of  his  lash. 

But  the  tongue  of  the  muleteer  was,  after  all,  his  chief 
reliance  as  a  stimulating  force.  The  whip  and  rein  had 
their  uses,  but  when  pulling  up  steep  and  stony  hills, 
through  miry  sloughs  and  over  ''corduroy"  roads,  the 
driver  brought  into  play  all 
his  reserve  power  of  lungs, 
and  the  effect  was  magical. 
Without  those  unearthly 
yells  and  howls,  those  aw- 
ful oaths  and  imprecations, 
the  supply -trains  never 
could    have    reached    the 


AN  ARMY  TEAM. 


(V  ^^^^i^PS^,^'/^^  ^^^^^^^^^    front;    the  army 
i^4m^^J[  ^/  ^^Ci'^?^^^^!  would  have  starv- 

ed  to  death  and 
the  war  have  been 
a  failure. 

The  idea  of  riding  for  a  few  days  and  letting  his  blisters 
;get  well  was  too  much  for  Si  Klegg.  Besides,  he  thought 
if  there  was  anyone  thing  he  could  do  better  than  another 
it  was  driving  team.  He  had  been  doing  it  on  his  father's 
farm  all  his  life.  He  did  not  think  there  would  be  a  fight 
that  day,  and  so  was  willing  to  serve  as  a  substitute  for 
the  charioteer. 


SI  VOLUNTEERS  AS  TEAMSTER.  227 

,*^I'tn  yer  man!  "  he  said. 

*  *  All  right ! ' '  said  the  orderly.  * '  Company,  Right — Face ! 
Break  ranks — March !  " 

''There  ain't  no  trouble  about  it!  "  Si  said  to  Shorty  as 
they  walked  back  to  the  tent.  ''I  reckon -it's  easy  'nough 
ter  manage  mules  ef  ye  go  at  'em  right.  It'll  be  jest  fun 
for  me  to  drive  team.  And  say,  Shorty,  I'll  carry  all  yer 
traps  on  my  waggin.  ,  That'll  be  a  heap  better  'n  totin' 
^em!" 

''Thank'ee,  pard,"  said  Shorty,  ''I'll  b'ar  it  'n  mind  ef  I 
gits  played  out.  I  reck'n  ye '11  git  'long  'thout  no  trouble. 
It'll  give  ye  a  chance  ter  find  out  th^  diff'runce  'tween 
mules  'n'  bosses." 

Si  gathered  up  his  outfit  and  started  to  enter  upon  his 
new  sphere  of  usefulness. 

"Shall  I  take  my  gun  'n'  bay 'net  'long?"  he  asked  the 
orderly. 

"Guess  you'd  better;  they  might  come  handy!"  replied 
the  orderly,  as  he  thought  of  the  regular  teamster's  disas- 
trous encounter  with  the  "off- wheeler." 

After  Shorty  had  eaten  his  breakfast  bethought  he  would 
go  back  of  the  camp  and  see  how  Si  was  getting  on.  With 
thoughtful  care  Si  had  fed  his  mules  before  appeasing  his 
own  appetite,  and  Shorty  found  him  just  waiting  for  his 
coffee  to  cool  a  bit. 

"Why,  them  'ere  mules  is  jest  ^s  gentle  'n'  peace 'ble-like 
*-s  so  many  kittens.  Look  at  'em,  Shorty!  "  and  Si  pointed 
•with  a  proud  and  gratified  air  to  where  the  six  "daisies  " 
Tvere  standing,  three  on  each  side  of  the  wagon-pole,  with 
their  noses  in  the  feed-box,  quietly  munching  their  matu- 
tinal rations,  and  whisking  their  paint-brush  tails  about 
in  evident  enjoyment. 

Indeed,  to  look  at  those  mules,  one  who  was  ignorant 
of  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  species  would  not  have 
thought  that  beneath  those  meek  exteriors  there  were 
hearts   filled  with   the  raging  fires  of  total  depravity. 


228  GOING  TO  HAVE  A  NICE  TIME. 

Shorty  thought  how  it  would  be,  but  he  didn't  say  any^ 
thing.    He  was  sure  that  Si  would  find  out  all  about  it. 

The  brigade  to  which  the  200th  Indiana  belonged  was 
to  march  in  the  rear  of  the  procession  that  day.  This  ^^as 
lucky  for  Si,  as  it  gave  him  an  hour  or  two  more  than  he 
would  otherwise  have  had  to  get  hitched  up.  But  he 
thought  he  would  begin  early,  so  as  to  be  on  hand  with 
his  team  in  good  time. 

''Want  an}^  help?  "  asked  Shorty. 

**No,"  said  Si;  "I  kin  hitch  'em  up  slick  's  a  whistle.  I 
can't  see  why  they  makes  sich  a  fuss  'bouthandlin'  mules !  " 

Shorty  lighted  his  cob  pipe  and  sat  down  on  a  stump  ta 
watch  Si.  ''Kind  o'  think  there'll  be  a  circus ! "  he  said  to 
himself. 

Si  got  up  from  his  coffee  and  hardtack,  and  addressed 
himself  to  the  business  of  the  hour.  It  proved  to  be  just  as 
much  as  he  could  attend  to.  When  he  poured  half  a  bushel 
of  corn  into  the  feed-box  it  was  all  Yerj  nice,  and  the  ani- 
mals rubbed  their  heads  against  him  to  give  expression  to- 
their  grateful  emotions.  But  when  it  came  to  putting  on 
the  harness,  that  was  quite  a  different  thing.  The  mere 
touch  of  a  strap  was  enough  to  arouse  into  activity  all  the 
evil  passions  of  mule  nature. 

**Now,  Pete  n'  Jeff 'n'  Susan,  we  must  git  ready  to  pull 
out!"  said  Si  to  his  charge,  in  a  familiar,  soothing  tone, 
preliminary  to  getting  down  to  business..  It  was  his  evi- 
dent desire  to  maintain  the  friendly  relations  that  he 
thought  he  had  already  established.  At  the  first  rattle  of 
the  harness  Pete  and  Jeff  and  the  rest,  as  if  with  but  a 
single  thought,  laid  back  their  ears  and  began  to  bray,  their 
heels  at  the  same  time  showing  symptons  of  impatience. 

"Whoa,  there— whoa!''  exclaimed  Si,  in  a  conciliatory 
way,  as  he  advanced  ^vith  a  bridle  in  his  hand  toward  one 
of  the  big  wheelers,  whose  ears  were  flapping  about  like 
the  fans  of  a  windmill. 

Si  imprudently  crept  up  from  the  rear.    A  flank  move- 


SOFT  WORDS  THAT  WERE  WASTED, 


229 


ment  would  have  been  better.  As  soon  as  lie  got  fairly 
within  range  the  mule  winked  viciouslj^  lowered  his  head, 
and  let  fly  both  heels.  Si  was  a  spry  boy,  and  a  quick 
dodge  saved  him  from  the  fate  of  his  predecessor.  One  of 
the  heels  whizzed  past  his  ear  with  the  speed  of  a  cannon 
^ball,  caught  his  hat,  and  sent  it  spinning  through  the  air. 
Shorty,  who  was  whittling  up  a  piece  of  Kentucky  twist 
to  recharge  his  pipe,  laughed  till  he  rolled  off  the  stu^p  all 
in  a  heap.  A  few  of  the  other  boys  had  strayed  out  to  see 
the  fun,  and  were  lounging  around  the  outskirts  of  tke 
corral. 

"Go   for  'em.  Si ! '^ 
they  shouted. 

Si  was  plucky,  and 
again  advanced,  with 
more  caution.  This 
time  he  was  success- 
ful, after  a  spirited  en-' 
gagement,  in  getting 
the  bridle  on.  He 
i:hought  he  would  ride 
the  animal  down  to 
the  creek  for  water, 
and  this  would  give  him  a  chance  to  get  acquainted  with 
him,  as  it  were.  He  patted  his  neck,  called  him  pet  names, 
and  gently  stroked  his  stubbly  mane.  Si  didn't  know 
then  what  an  utter  waste  of  material  it  was  to  give  taffy 
to  an  army  mule. 

With  a  quick  spring  he  vaulted  upon  the  mule's  back.  He 
started  off  in  good  style,  waving  his  hand  exultingly  to 
the  boys,  with  the  air  of  a  general  who  has  just  won  a 
great  battle. 

All  at  once  the  animal  stopped  as  suddenly  as  if  he  had 
run  against  a  stone  wall.  He  planted  his  fore  feet,  throw- 
inghisears  back  and  his  head  down.  There  was  a  simulta- 
neous rear  elevation,  with  the  heels  at  an  upward  angle  of 


A  CLOSE  SHAVE. 


230 


MORE  VIGOROUS  MEASURES. 


about  forty-five  degrees.  Si  vrent  sprawling  among  tlie 
bushes.  This  performance  was  greeted  with  great  enthu- 
siasm by  the  fast-increasing  crowd  of  spectators. 

Si's  temper  began  to  show  signs  of  fermentation.    He 
had  hung  on  to  the  bridle-rein,  and  after  addressing  a  few 
impressive  words  to  the  obstreperous  mule,  he  again  leaped 
upon  his  back.    The  mule  then  took  a  docile  turn,  his  mo- 
^       "^':  ^jr^       tive  having  apparently 

I'-r/---'^  '"  .>--""■•  '-^  ^  .^^^^-^"SSMlt  ^^^^  merely  to  show  Si 
:4^-'---    --^^ -•'>'.    '  ^i?i^illi#^^   what  he  could  do  when 

he  took  the  notion. 

It  would  be  tedious 
to  follow  Si  through  all 
the  details  of  * '  hitching 
up  "that  team.  He  did 
finally  succeed  after 
much  strategic  effort. 
The  mules  brayed  and 
kicked  a  good  deal,  and 
Si's  wrath  was  fully 
aroused  before  he  got 
through.  He  became 
convinced  that  s  o  ft. 
words  were  of  no  ac- 
count in  suchacontest, 
and  he  enforced  disci- 
pline by  the  judicious^ 
"a  man  overboard."  use  of  a  big  club,  to- 

gether with  such  appropriate  language  as  he  could  think 
of  He  hadn't  learned  to  swear  v/ith  that  wonderful  and 
appalling  piroficiency  that  was  so  soon  acquired  by  the 
army  teamster. 

At  last  Si  climbed  into  the  saddle,  as  proud  as  a  king. 
Seizingthelong  line  he  shouted,  ''Gitupthar,  Pete!  G'lang. 
Susan !  "  and  the  caravan  started. 
But  those  unregenerate  brutes  didn't  go  far.    Si  was 


TIMELY  ASSISTANCE.  231 

gayly  cracking  his  whip,  trying  to  hit  a  big  blue-bottle  fly 
that  was  perched  on  the  ear  of  one  of  the  ''swing"  mules. 
As  if  by  a  preconcerted  plan,  the  establishment  came  to 
a  sudden  halt  and  the  mules  began  to  rear  and  kick  and 
plunge  around  in  a  state  of  riotous  insurrection.  It  didn't 
take  more  than  a  minute  for  them  to  get  mixed  in  a  hope- 
less tangle.  They  were  in  all  conceivable  shapes— heads 
and  tails  together,  crosswise  and  ''every  which  way, "tied 
up  with  the  straps  of  the  harness.  The  air  in  all  directions 
was  full  of  heels.  There  was  a  wild  chorus  of  discordant 
braying. 

In  the  course  of  the  scrimmage  Si  found  himself  on  the 
ground.  Gathering  himself  up,  he  gazed  in  utter  amaze- 
ment at  the  twisted,  writhing  mass.  At  this  moment  a 
message  came  from  the  colonel  to  "hurry  up  that  team," 
and  poor  Si  didn't  know  what  to  do.  He  wished  he  could 
only  talk  like  the  old  mule  drivers.  He  thought  it  would 
make  him  feel  better.  There  was  no  one  to  help  him  out 
of  his  dilemma,  as  the  members  of  the  company  were  all 
getting  ready  for  the  march. 

A  veteran  teamster  happened  along  that  way,  took  in 
the  situation  at  a  glance,  and  volunteered  his  assistance. 
"Here,  young  feller,"  said  he,  "Lemme  show  ye  how  to 
take  the  stiffenin'  out  o'  them  ere  dod-gasted  mules  !  " 

Seizing  the  whip  at  the  small  end  of  the  stock  he  began 
laying  on  right  and  left  with  the  butt,  taking  care  to  keep 
out  of  range  of  the  heels.  During  these  exercises  he  was 
shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice  words  that  hissed  through 
the  air.  Si  thought  he  could  smell  the  brimstone  and  see 
the  smoke  issuing  from  the  old  teamster's  mouth  and  nos- 
trils. This  is  a  section  of  what  that  experienced  mule- 
driver  said,  as  nearly  as  types  can  express  it  : 

'' !  ! !!!***ttt!!!  ! ?  ?  ? 

—  *  1 1 !  !  !  !" 
Si  thanked  the  veteran  for  these  timely  suggestions  in  the 


;32 


THE   CARAVAN  UNDER  V^AY. 


way  of  language,  and  said  he  would  remember  them.    He 
had  no  doubt  they  w^ould  help  him  out  next  time. 

They  finally  got  the  team  untied,  and  Si  drove  over  to 
headquarters.  The  regiment  had  been  gone  some  time,  a 
detail  having  been  left  to  load  the  wagon.  After  getting 
out  upon  the  road  the  mules  plodded  along  wnthout  ob- 
jection, and  Si  got  on  famously.  But  having  lost  his  place 
in  the  column  in  consequence  of  the  delay,  he  was  obliged 
to  fall  in  rear  of  the  division  train,  and  it  was  noon  before 
he  got  well  vStarted. 


TOTAL  DEPRAVITY. 


Along  toward  evening  Si  struck  a  section  of  old  corduroy 
road  through  a  piece  of  swamp.  The  passage  of  the  ar- 
tillery and  wagons  had  left  it  in  a  wretched  condition. 
The  logs  were  lying  at  all  points  of  the  compass,  or  drift- 
ing about  in  the  mire,  wdiile  here  and  there  were  seas  of 
water  and  pits  of  abysmal  depth. 

To  make  the  story  short,  Si's  mules  stumbled  and 
floundered  and  kicked,  while  he  laid  on  with  the  whip  and 
used  some  of  the  Avords  he  had  learned  from  the  old  team- 
ster before  starting. 


MORE  TROUBLE,   AND  SI  RESIGNS. 


233 


At  length  the  wagon  became  hopelessly  stalled.  The 
«7heels  sank  to  the  hubs,  and  Si  yelled  and  cracked  his  whip 
in  vain.  Perhaps  if  he  had  had  the  old  teamster  there  to 
talk  for  him  he  could  have  pulled  through,  but  as  it  was 
he  gave  it  up,  dismounted,  hunted  a  dry  spot,  and  sat 
down  to  think. 

Just  before  dark  a  large  detail  from  the  regiment  which 
had  been  sent  back  on  an  exploring  expedition  for  the  col- 
onel's team,  reached  the  spot.  After  hours  of  prying 
and     pushing     and  ,,   „  ^.^.^    x/^.^/<Vr^, 

tugging  and  j^elling 
they  at  length  got 
the  wagon  over  the 
slough,  reaching 
camp  about  mid- 
night. 

The  colonel  was 
Si  good  deal  excited 
because  his  wagon 
was  so  late  in  get- 
ting up.  It  contain- 
ed his  mess -chest 
and  he  had  been 
compelled  to  wait 
for  his  supper,  fain 
to  stay  his  hunger  by  begging  a  hardtack  or  two  from 
the  boys.  He  made  it  very  uncomfortable  for  the  amateur 
teamster. 

Early  next  morning  Si  went  back  to  the  company.  * '  Or- 
derly," said  he,  ''Ib'lieve  I'd  like  ter  resign  my  place  as 
tnule-driver.  It's  a  nice,  soft  thing,  but  I'd  jest  's  lief  let 
«'m  other  feller  have  it,  an'  I'll  take  my  gun  an'  go  ter 
lioofin'  it  agin! " 


IN  THE  SLOUGH. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Si  Smells  Powder,  Behaves  Handsomely,  and  is  Made  a  C  orpokaI., 

C  C  ^^  EEMS  to  me  it's  'bout  time  ter  be  gittin'  into  a 
v,^  fight !"  said  Si  Klegg  to  Shorty  one  night  as  they 
sat  around  the  fire  after  supper,  with  their  shoes  and  stock- 
ings off,  comparing  the  size  and  number  of  their  respective 
bhsters.  Neither  of  them  had  left  on  their  feet  much  of  the 
skin  with  which  they  started  out.  ''I  always  s'posed," 
he  continued,  "that  bein'  a  soljer  meant fightin' somebody ; 
and  here  we  are  roamin'  over  the  country  like  a  lot  o^ 
tramps.    I  can't  see  no  good  in  it,  nohow !'' 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  Si,"  replied  Shorty;  "I  reck'n 
we'll  ketch  it  soon  'nough.  F'm  what  I've  heern  the  old 
soldiers  tell,  a  battle  ain't  such  a  funny  thing  as  a  feller 
thinks  what  don't  know  nothin'  'bout  it.  The  bo^^s  is  al* 
ways  hungry  at  fust  for  shootin'  and  bein'  shot  at,  but  I've 
an  idee  that  it  sort  o'  takes  away  their  appetite  when  they 
gits  one  squar'  meal  of  it.  They  don't  hanker  arter  it  no 
more.  It's  likely  we'll  git  filled  full  one  o' these  days !  I'm 
willin'  ter  wait!" 

"Wall,"  said  Si,  "I  sh'd  think  we  might  have  a  little 
squirmish,  anyhow.  I'd  like  ter  have  a  chance  ter  try  my 
gun,  'n'  hear  what  kind  of  a  noise  bullets  makes.  Of 
course  I'd  ruther  they'd  hit  some  other  feller  'sides  me,  but 
I'm  ready  ter  take  the  chances.  I  don't  b'lieve  I'd  be 
afeard!'* 

Si  was  ambitious,  and  full  of  the  martial  ardor  that 
blazed  in  the  breast  of  every  young  volunteer.    He  was 

234 


COMPANY  Q  TO  THE  FRONT.  235 

really  glad  when  the  orderly  came  around  presentlv  and 
told  them  that  the  200th  Indiana  would  have  the  adVance 
next  day,  and  Company  Q  would  be  on  the  skirmish  line. 
He  told  the  boys  to  see  that  their  cartridge-boxes  were  all 
full  and  their  guns  in  good  order,  as  they  would  be  very 
likely  to  run  foul  of  the  rebels. 

Before  Si  went  to  bed  he  cleaned  up  his  gun  and  made 
sure  that  it  would  ''go  off"  when  he  wanted  it  to.  Then 
he  and  Shorty  crawled  under  the  blankets,  and  as  they  lay 
"spoon  fashion,"  thinking  about  what  might  happen  the 
next  day.  Si  said  he  hoped  they  would  both  have  ''lots 
of  sand." 

All  night  Si  was  dreaming  about  awful  scenes  of  slaugh- 
ter. Before  morning  he  had  destroyed  a  large  part  of  the 
Confederate  arm^-. 

It  was  yet  dark  when  the  reveille  sounded  through  the 
camp.  Si  and  Shorty  kicked  off  the  blankets  at  first 
blast  of  bugle,  and  were  quickly  in  their  places  for  roll- 
call.  Then,  almost  in  a  moment,  fires  were  gleaming,  and 
the  soldiers  gathered  around  them  to  prepare  theirTiastv 
breakfast. 

Before  the  sun  was  up  the  bugles  rang  out  again  upon 
the  morning  air.  In  quick  succession  came  the  ''general,'' 
the  "assembly,"  and  "to  the  color."  The  200th  marched 
out  upon  the  pike,  but  soon  filed  off  into  a  cornfield  to  take 
its  assigned  place  in  the  line,  for  the  advance  division 
>K^as  to  move  in  order  of  battle,  brigade  front,  that  day. 

Moving  in  line  of  battle  was  a  very  different  thing  from 
marching  in  column  on  a  well-defined  road.  The  former 
mode  of  advancing  was  customary  when  in  the  immediate 
presence  of  the  enemy,  to  be  in  readiness  for  action  at  an  v  mo- 
ment. In  case  of  sudden  attack,  a  body  of  men  marching 
by  the  flank  would  almost  inevitably  be  thrown  into  con"^ 
fusion  before  it  could  be  formed  in  order  of  battle.  Some- 
times  the  leading  corps  of  an  army,  disposed  in  two  or 
three  parallel  lines,  with  a  front  of  a  mile  or  more,  marched 


236  BEHIND  A  CONVENIENT  STUMP. 

all  day  with  this  formation,  directly  *^  across  country," 
through  field  and  wood  and  bramble  patch,  leveling  every 
fence  in  its  course,  fording  streams  and  swamps,  stopping 
for  nothing,  except,  perhaps,  a  fortified  position  of  the 
enemy.  A  march  of  this  kind  was  extremely  fatiguing,  and 
night  found  the  men  with  clothing  torn  and  hands  and 
faces  bleeding  from  the  effects  of  bush  and  brier.  During 
the  early  hours  of  the  day,  when  moving  through  thick 
underbrush  or  fields  of  standing  grain  wet  with  the  heavy 
de^srs  of  night,  the  garments  of  the  soldiers  became  as  com- 
pletely saturated  as  if  they  vv^ere  marching  in  a  rain-storm. 

In  obedience  to  orders  Company  Q  moved  briskly  out 
and  deployed  as  skirmishers,  covering  the  regimental  front. 
The  movement  was  not  a  scientific  ''deployment,"  for 
that  point  in  the  tactics  had  not  yet  been  reached ;  but  a 
few  directions  enabled  the  men  to  spread  themselves  out 
in  good  shape.  As  the  line  advanced  through  field  and 
thicket  Si  Klegg's  heart  was  not  the  only  one  that 
thumped  against  the  blouse  that  covered  it. 

It  was  not  long  till  a  squad  of  cavalrymen  came  gallop- 
ing back,  yelling  that  the  rebels  were  just  ahead.  The 
line  was  halted  for  a  few  minutes,  while  the  generals  swept 
the  surrounding  country  with  their  field-glasses,  and  took 
in  the  situation. 

The  skirmishers,  for  fear  of  accidents,  took  advantage 
of  such  cover  as  presented  itself.  Si  and  Shorty  found 
themselves  to  leeward  of  a  large  stump. 

''D'ye  reckon  a  bullet  'd  go  through  this  'ere  stump?" 
said  Si. 

Before  Shorty  could  answer,  something  happened  that 
absorbed  their  entire  attention. 

Boom-m-m-m  ? 

"D-d-d'ye  hear  that?"  said  Si  through  his  chattering 
teeth. 

"Yes,  and  there's  suthin  comin'  over  this  way,"  replied 
Shorty. 


(  ^  r^ 


SI  AND  SHORTY  GET  PANICKY.  237 

A  shell  came  screaming  and  swishing  througli  the  air. 
The  young  Hoosiers  curled  around  the  roots  of  that  stump 
and  flattened  themselves  out  like  a  pair  of  griddle-cakes. 
If  it  was  Si  and  Shorty  that  the  rebel  gunners  w^ere  after 
they  timed  the  shell  to  a  second,  for  it  burst  with  a  lond 
bang  just  over  them.  The  fragments  flew  all  around, 
some  striking  the  stump  and  others  tearing  up  the  dirt  on 
every  side. 

To  say  that  for  the  moment  those  two  soldiers  were 
demoralized  would  be  drawing  it  very  mildly.  They 
showed  unmistakable  symptoms  of  a  panic.  It  seemed  as 
though  they  would 
be  hopelessly  stam- 
peded. Their  tongues 
were  paralyzed,  and 
they  could  only  look 
silently  into  each 
other's  white  faces. 

Si  w^as  the  first  to 
recover  himself,  al- 
though it  could  hard- 
ly be  expected  that  he 
could  get  over  his 
scare  all  at  once. 

*'D-d-did  it  hit  ye, 
Sh-Shorty  ?"  he  said.  ^^^^^^  ^  ^^^''^• 

'^N-no,  I  guess  not ;  b-b-but  ain't  it  aw-awful,  Si  ?  You 
looked  so  b-b-bad  I  th-thought  ye  was  k-k-killed !" 

**  Who's  afeard?"said  Si.  *'Iwas  only  skeered  of  you, 
Shorty.  Brace  up,  pard  !  It's  all  right  so  's  we  ain't  hurt. 
But  say.  Shorty,  does  all  the  bullets  do  that  way?" 

''That  was  a  shell  a-bustin',  Si,  'n'  that  big  noise  jest 
'fore  it  was  a  cannon.  I'veheerd  't  shells  w^as  powerful  fer 
skeerin',  'n'  I  'low  ther'  ain't  no  mistake  'bout  it." 

''I've  read  'bout  shells  'n'  things,"  said  Si,  "but  I  never 
heerd  one  afore.    Ef  they're  all  like  that  un  I  don't  guess 


238 


SI  GETS  A  SHOT, 


I'm  goin'  ter  like  'em  very  much.  We  hain't  got  no  use  fet 
'em,  'n'  I  wish  they'd  keep  'em  to  theirselves.  'Tain't  a  fa'r 
way  ter  fight,  nuther;  a  feller  hain't  got  no  show  'th  a 
muskit  agin  a  cannon  't  heaves  them  things  a  mile." 

Several  more  shells  were  sent  over,  but  they  exploded  to 
the  right  and  left  and  in  the  rear. 

** Givin'  the  rest  o'  the  boys  a  chance  ter  smell  'em,"  said 
Shorty. 

**  'Pears  to  me  they'd  orter  be  divided  'round.    I  ain't  no 
pig,  'n'  I'm  willin'  ter  wait  t'll  it's  my  turn." 

After  a  brief  consultation  the  generals  determined  to  push 
on.     '' Skirmishers — Forward!  "  was  heard  along  the  line. 

"Come  on.  Shorty," 
said  Si,  and  they  plung- 
ed bravely  ahead. 

Emerging  suddenly 
from  a  thick  wood,  they 
came  upon  the  rebel  skir- 
mishers in  full  view, 
posted  on  the  opposite 
side  of  afield. 

Crack!  Crack!— Zip^- 
Zip! 

''Guess  there's  a  bee- 
tree  somewhere  around 


si's  first  shot. 

here,  from  the  way  the  bees  is  buzzin',''  said  Si. 

'"Tain't  no  bees,"  replied  Shorty,  "them's  bullets.  Si. 
Nice  music,  ain't  it  ?  Don't  ye  see  the  durned  galoots  over 
yonder  a-shootin'  at  us  ?  " 

Si  was  not  a  coward,  and  he  was  determined  to  show 
that  he  was  not.  The  shell,  a  little  while  before,  had  taken 
the  starch  out  of  him  for  a  few  minutes,  but  that  was 
nothing  to  his  discredit.  Many  a  seasoned  veteran  found 
himself  exceedingly  limber  under  such  circumstances. 

"  Let's  give  the  raskils  a  dose, ' '  said  he ;  "  the  best  we've 
^ot  'n  the  shop!" 


AND  TAKES  A  PRISONER.  239 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  Si  crept  up  to  a  fence, 
thrust  his  gun  between  the  rails,  took  good  aim  and  fired. 
A  bullet  from  the  other  side  of  the  field  made  the  spHnters 
flv  from  a  rail  a  foot  or  two  from  his  head,  but  he  was 
getting  excited  now,  and  he  didn't  mind  it  any  more  than 
if  it  had  been  a  paper  wad  from  a  pea-shooter. 

It  makes  a  great  difference  with  a  soldier  under  fire 
whether  he  can  take  a  hand  in  the  game  himself,  or  whether 
he  must  lie  idle  and  let  the  enemy  ''play  it  alone." 

''Did  ye  hear  him  squeal?  "  said  Si,  as  he  dropped  upon 
the  ground  and  began  to  reload  with  all  his  might.  ''I 
hit  that  feller,  sure  pop !  Give  'em  pertickler  fits,  Shorty. 
We'll  show  'em  't  the  200th  Injianny  's  in  front  to-day!  '* 

"Forward,  men!"  shouted  the  officers.  "Go  right  for 
'em!" 

The  skirmishers  sprang  over  the  fence  and  swept  across 
the  field  at  a  "double-quick"  in  the  face  of  a  sputtering 
fire  that  did  little  damage.  None  of  them  reached  the  other 
side  any  sooner  than  Si  did.  The  rebels  seemed  to  have 
found  out  that  the  200th  was  coming,  for  they  were 
already  on  the  run,  and  some  of  them  had  started  early. 
Pell-mell  through  the  brush  they  went,  and  the  blue- 
blouses  after  them. 

"Halt,  there,  or  I'll  blow  a  hole  clean  through  ye!" 
yelled  Si,  as  he  closed  up  on  a  ragged  specimen  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy  whose  wind  had  given  out.  Si 
thought  it  would  be  a  tall  feather  in  his  hat  if  he  could 
take  a  prisoner  and  march  him  back. 

The  "Johnny"  gave  one  glance  at  his  pursuer,  hesitated, 
and  was  lost.    He  surrendered  at  discretion. 

"Come  'long  with  me;  ye're  my  meat!"  said  Si,  his 
-eyes  glistening  with  pleasure  and  pride.  He  conducted 
his  prisoner  back  and  delivered  him  to  the  colonel. 

*'  Well  done,  my  brave  fellow !  "  said  the  colonel.  "This 
is  a  glorious  day  for  the  200th  Indiana,  and  you've  taken 
its  first  prisoner.    What's  your  name,  my  boy  ?  " 


240 


KIND  WORDS  FROM  THE  COLONEL. 


"Josiah  Klegg,  sir !  "  said  Si,  blushing  to  the  very  roots 
of  his  hair. 
**  What  company  do  you  belong  to  ?  " 
** Company  Q,  sir!"  and  Si  saluted  the  officer  as  nicely 
as  he  knew  how. 

"I'll  see  your  captain  to-night,  Mr.  Klegg,  and  youshaJJ 
be  rewarded  for  your  good  conduct.    You  are  the  kind  of 
stuff  we  want  for  non-commissioned  offi* 
cers,  and  we  must  have  you  promoted. 
You  may  now  return  to  your  company. "^ 
It  was  the  proudest  moment  of  Si's  life 
up  to  date.    He  stammered  out  his  thanks 
to  the  colonel,  and  then, 
throwing  his  gun  up  to 
a   right-shoulder-shift, 
he  started  off  on  a  can- 
ter to  rejoin  the  skir- 
mishers. 

The  fight  was  over. 
It  was  only  the  rebel 
rear -guard   making   a 
stand  to  check  the  ad- 
vance   of     the     Union 
troops,  led  by  the  im- 
petuous 200th  Indiana. 
The  main  body  of  the 
Confederate  army  was 
getting  out  of  the  way 
as  fast  as  possible. 
That  night  Si  Klegg  was  the  subject  of  a  short  conver- 
sation between  his  captain  and  the  colonel.    They  agreed 
that  Si  had  behaved  very  handsomely,  and  deserved  to  be 
promoted. 

'*  Are  there  any  vacancies  in  your  non-commissioned  offi- 
cers ?  "  asked  the  colonel. 

"No,"  was  the  reply,  "but  there  ought  to  be.    One  of 


A  GOOD  BEGINNING. 


SI  APPOINTED  A  CORPORAL.  241 

my  corporals  skulked  back  to  the  rear  this  morning  and 
crawled  into  a  wagon.  I  think  we  had  better  reduce  him 
to  the  ranks  and  appoint  Mr.  Klegg." 

"Do  so  at  once,  "  said  the  colonel. 

Next  morning,  when  the  200th  was  drawn  up  in  line,  an 
order  was  read  by  the  adjutant  reducing  the  skulker  and 
promoting  Si  to  the  full  rank  of  corporal,  with  a  few 
w^ords  commending  the  gallantry  of  the  latter.  These 
orders  announcing  rewards  and  punishments  were  sup- 
posed to  have  a  salutary  effect  by  inspiring  the  men  to 
deeds  of  glory,  and  as  a  warning  to  those  who  were  a  littlo 
short  of '*  sand." 

Si  bore  his  unexpected  honors  with  becoming  modesty. 
The  boys  of  Company  Q  cheered  him  on  the  march  that 
day,  shouting  and  yelling  for  ''Corporal  Klegg"  with 
great  effusiveness.  In  the  evening,  after  supper,  in  spite 
of  his  protests,  they  placed  him  on  a  cracker-box  mounted 
on  two  rails,  and  four  sturdy  men  carried  him  around  in, 
triumphal  state  on  their  shoulders,  led  by  fife  and  drum 
and  followed  by  the  members  of  the  company  in  grotesque 
procession.  It  may  have  been  accidental, — possibly  it  was 
part  of  the  plan  for  the  celebration— but  one  of  the  rails 
slipped  and  the  new  corporal  tumbled  to  the  ground  in  a 
promiscuous  heap,  amidst  the  shouts  of  his  comrades.  He 
was  informed  that  he  would  be  required  to  ''set  'em  up  " 
at  the  first  opportunity. 

Promotions  in  the  army  were  celebrated  by  demonstra- 
tions of  this  kind,  with  every  conceivable  variation  of 
style,  and  few  who  had  stripes  put  on  their  arms  were  per- 
mitted to  escape.  The  solemn  awe  with  which  the  soldiers 
at  first  regarded  their  commissioned  officers  gradually 
melted  away,  and  they,  too,  had  to  come  in  for  their  share 
of  attention  when  they  stepped  up  a  round  in  the  ladder. 
When  a  soldier  was  commissioned  from  the  ranks  he  wa» 
an  especial  object  of  boisterous  congratulation;  nor  wa?f^ 


242 


ANOTHER  LETTER  TO  ANNIE. 


he  permitted  to  wear  his  shoulder-straps  in  peace  until 

they  had  been  properly  "moistened." 
Si  hunted  up  some  strips  of  cloth  and  needle  and  thread, 

went  off  back  of  the  tent,  rammed  his  bayonet  into  tlie 

ground,  stuck  a  candle  in  the  socket,  and,  with  Short}''s 

assistance,  sewed  chevrons  on  his  sleeves. 

"  Thar,"  said  Shorty,  as  his 
comrade  put  on  his  decorated 
blouse,  ''them  stripes  's  mighty 
becomin'  to  ye,  'n'  ye  arm^d 
em,  too,  faV  'n'  squar'.  I  aiui't 
^shamed  ter  have  ye  fer  ni;^ 
pard." 

Then  Si  thought  of  somebod  |r 
whose  heart  he  hoped  would 
flutter  with  pleasure  to  know 
of  his  promotion,  and  before 
going  to  bed  he  wrote  a  short 
letter: 

Deer  Annie:  I  once  more  take  my 
pen  in  hand  to  tell  you  theres  grate 
news.  I'm  an  ossifer.  We  had  an  awful 
fite  yisterdy.  I  don't  know  how  menny 
rebbles  I  kild,  but  I  guess  thare  was 
enuff  to  start  a  good  sized  graveyard.  I 
tuk  a  prizner,  too,  and  the  Kumal  says 
to  me  bully  fer  j^ou  Mister  Klegg,  or 
CORPORAL  SI  KLEGG.  sumthin  tothat  effeck.    This  momin  they 

-made  me  a  Corporil,  and  red  it  out  before  the  hull  rijiment.  I  guess 
youd  been  prowd  if  you  cood  a  seen  me.  To-night  the  boj'S  is  hollerin 
hurraw  fer  Corporil  Klegg  all  over  camp,  i  aint  as  big  as  the  Ginrals 
and  sum  of  the  other  ossifers,  but  thars  no  tellin  how  hi  I'll  get  in  three 
years. 

Rownd  is  the  ring  that  haint  no  end, 
So  is  my  luv  to  you  my  frend. 

Yours,  same  as  before, 

Corporil  Si  Klbgg. 


CHAPTER  XIX.* 

'^'Should   Old   Acquaintance  be  Forgot  and  Never  Brought  to 

Mind?"— The  Little  Bug  with  the  Big  Name. 

ONE  day  just  before  Si  left  home  with  Company  Q  he 
was  sitting  on  the  sugar  barrel  in  the  corner  gro- 
cery, gnawing  a  ''blind  robin,"  and  telling  how  he  thought 
the  war  wouldn't  last  long  after  the  200th  Indiana  got 
down  there  and  took  a  hand  in  the  game.  One  of  the 
town  boys,  who  had  been  a  year  in  the  service,  had  got  a 
bullet  through  his  arm  in  a  skirmish,  and  was  at  home 
on  furlough,  entered  the  store  and  accosted  him: 

"Hello,  Si;  goin^  for  a  soljer,  ain't  ye?" 

''You  bet!" 

"Wall,  you'd  better  b'lieve  it's  great  fun;  it's  jest  a  pic- 
nic all  the  time!     But  say.  Si,  let's  see  yer  finger-nails!" 

"I'd  like  ter  know  what  finger-nails  's  got  to  do  with 
-soljerin'!"  said  Si.     "The  'cruitin'  ossifer  'n'  the  man  't 

*  Before  entering  upon  this  chapter  the  writer  is  moved  to  a  few  words 
of  explanation— he  will  not  say  apology.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
the  "  graj^back  "  would  be  a  theme  with  few  attractions  for  a  refined  and 
sensitive  reader.  Possibly  these  pages  maybe  scanned  by  some  for  whose 
information  it  is  well  to  say  that  the  "  grayback  "  was  a  very  large  factor 
in  the  discomfort  of  the  soli'ier.  In  the  usual  conditions  of  life  the  abiding 
presence  of  this  pestiferous  insect  might  well  be  considered  an  evidence  of 
uncleanly  habits.  In  the  army  it  was  not  so— that  is  to  say,  there  were 
times  when  everybody,  from  generals  down,  "  had 'em  "  more  or  less, 
and  no  power  on  earth  could  prevent  it.  To  "  skip  "  the  subject  in  these 
pages  would  be  deemed  by  the  old  soldier  an  unpardonable  fault ;  and 
the  writer  believes  that  any  person  who  will  put  himself  in  the  place 
of  the  soldier  may  read  this  chapter  without  offending  his  sense  of  liter- 
ary propriety. 

243 


244  SI  IS  PUZZLED. 

keeps  the  doctor  shop  made  me  shuck  myself,  *n'  then  they 
'xamined  my  teeth,  'n'  thumped  me  in  the  ribs,  'n'  rubbed 
down  my  legs,  'n'  looked  at  my  hoofs,  but  they  didn't  say 
nothin'  'bout  my  finger-nails." 

*' You  jest  do  's  I  tell  3'e;  let  'em  grow  'n'  keep  'em  right 
sharp.  Ye'U  find  plent}^  o'  use  fer  'em  arter  a  \Yhile,  'n' 
'twon't  be  long,  nuther.     I  know  what  I'm  talkin'  'bout.'^ 

Si  wondered  a  good  deal  what  1  he  veteran  meant  about 
the  finger-nails.  He  did  not  even  know  that  there  existed 
in  animated  nature  a  certain  active  and  industrious  insect 
which,  before  he  had  been  in  the  army  a  great  while,  would 
cause  his  heart  to  overflow^  with  gratitude  that  nature  had 
provided  him  wath  nails  on  his  fingers. 

If  the  200th  Indiana  had  been  quartered  for  a  while  in 
long-used  barracks,  or  had  pitched  its  tents  in  an  old  camp. 
Si  would  very  soon  have  learned  the  delightful  luxury  of 
finger-nails.  But  the  regiment  had  moved  out  quickly 
writh  the  army  and  always  camped  on  new  ground.  Under 
these  circumstances  the  insect  to  which  allusion  has  been 
made  did  not  begin  its  work  of  devastation  wnth  that 
suddenness  that  usually  marked  its  attack  upon  soldiers 
entering  the  field. 

One  afternoon,  when  a  few  days  out,  a  regiment  of  Wis- 
consin veterans  bivouacked  next  to  the  200th.  Their 
strange  antics,  as  they  threw  off  their  accouterments,  at- 
tracted Si's  attention. 

**Look  a'  thar,"  he  said  to  Short}^  ''What  'n  the  name 
of  all  the  prophets  's  them  fellers  up  to  ?" 

"Seems  like  they  was  scratchin'  theirselves ! " 

*'I  s'pose  that's  on  account  o'  the  dust  'n'  sweat,"  said 
Si. 

"It's  a  mighty  sight  wuss  'n  that !"  replied  Short^^  who 
knew^more  about  these  things  than  Si  did.  "I  reckon  we'll 
all  be  doin'  like  they  are  'fore  long." 

Si  whistled  softh'  as  he  watched  the  W^isconsin  boys. 
They  were  hitching  and  twisting  their  shoulders  about, 


245 

eTidently  enjoying  the  friction  of  the  clothing  upon  their 
skins.  There  was  a  general  employment  of  fingers,  and 
often  one  would  be  seen  getting  some  other  fellow  to 
scratch  his  back  around  where  he  couldn't  reach  himself. 
If  ever\^body  was  too  busy  to  do  this  for  him,  he  would 
back  up  to  a  tree  and  rub  up  and  down  against  the  bark. 

Life  has  few  pleasures  that  can  equal  the  sensations  of 
delightful  enjoyment  produced,  in  those  days  when  gray- 
backs  were  plenty,  by  rubbing  against  a  tree  that  nicely 
fitted  the  hollow  of  the  back,  after  throwing  off  one's 
^Hraps  "  at  the  end  of  a  day's  travel. 

Directly  the  Wisconsin  chaps  began  to  scatter  into  the 
-woods.  Si  watched  them  as  the^^got  behind  the  trees  and 
threw  off  their  blouses  and  shirts.  He  thought  at  first 
that  perhaps  they  were  going  in  swimming,  but  there  was 
no  stream  of  water  at  hand  large  enough  to  justify  this 
theor}'  in  explanation  of  their  partial  nudity.  As  each 
man  sat  down,  spread  his  shirt  over  his  knees,  and  ap- 
peared to  be  intently  engaged  with  eyes  and  fingers.  Si's 
<?uriosit3^  was  very  much  excited. 

"Looks  's  if  they  wuz  all  mendin'  up  their  shirts  an' 
sewin'  on  buttons,"  said  Si.  "  Guess  it's  part  o'  their  regu- 
lar drill,  ain't  it.  Shorty?  " 

Shorty  laughed  at  Si's  ignorant  simplicity.  He  knew 
-what  those  veterans  were  doing,  and  he  knew  that  Si 
Avould  have  to  come  to  it,  but  he  did  not  want  to  shock  his 
tender  sensibilities  by  telling  him  of  it. 

"  Them  fellers  ain't  sewin'  on  no  buttons.  Si,"  he  replied, 
'''they're  skirmishin'." 

''Skirmishin' ! ''  exclaimed  Si,  opening  his  eyes  ^^erj-wide. 
^'I  hain't  seen  no  signs  o'  rebils  'round  here,  'n'  there 
ain't  any  shootin'  goin'  on,  'nless  I've  lost  my  hearin'. 
It's  the  funniest  skirmishin'  I  ever  heern  tell  of  I  " 

''Now,  don't  ax  me  nuthin'  more  'bout  it,  Si,"  said 
Shorty.     "All  I'm  goin'  to  tell  ye  is  that  the  longer  ye  live 


246 


IN  QUEST  OF  INFORMATION, 


the  more  ye'll  find  things  out.     Let's  flax  'round  'n'  git 
supper! " 

A  Httle  while  after,  as  Si  was  squatting  on  the  ground 
holding  the  fr^ang-pan  over  the  fire,  he  saw"  a  strange  in- 
sect vaguely  wandering  about  on  the  sleeve  of  his  blouse. 
It  seemed  to  be  looking  for  something,  and  Si  became  in- 
terested as  he  watched  it  traveling  up  and  down  his  arm. 
He  had  never  seen  one  like  it  before,  and  had  a  desire  to 
know  what  it  was.  He  would  have  asked  Shorty,  but  his 
comrade  had  gone  to  the  spring  for  water.  Casting  his 
eye  around  he  saw  the  first  lieutenant,  who  chanced  to  be 

sauntering  through  the 
camp.  The  lieutenant 
had  been  the  principal 
of  a  seminar^',  and  at 
home  was  looked  upon 
by  the  simple  villagers 
as  a  man  who  knew 
about  all  that  w^as 
w^orth  knowing.  Si 
thought  he  might  be 
able  to  tell  him  some- 
i^  thing  of  the  harmless- 
looking  little  stranger. 
^  So  he  put  down  his 
frying-pan  and  stepped 
up  to  the  officer,  holding  out  his  arm  and  keeping  his  e^^e- 
on  the  insect  so  that  it  should  not  get  away. 

"  Good  evenin',  Lieutenant !  "  said  Si,  touching  his  hat. 
"Good  evening.  Corporal  Klegg,"said  the  officer, return- 
ing the  salute. 

"Look  a-here,  pard,"  said  Si,  familiarly,  forgetting  in 
the  interest  he  felt  in  the  subject  of  inquiry  the  chasm  of 
rank  that  yawned  between  them,  "you've  bin  ter  col- 
lidge,  'n'  got  filled  up  with  book-ramin' ;  p'raps  3"e  kin  tell 
me  what  kind  o'  bug  this  is. 


A  LESSON  IN   NATURAL   HISTORY. 


I'm  just  a  little  bit  cur  us  ter 


WHICH  IS  DULY  IMPARTED.  247 

know."  And  Si  pointed  to  the  insect,  that  was  leisurely 
creeping  toward  a  hole  in  the  elbow  of  his  outer  garment, 

''  Well,  Josiah,"  said  the  lieutenant,  after  a  brief  inspec- 
tion, "I  presume  I  don't  know  quite  as  much  as  some  peo- 
pie  think  I  do ;  but  I  guess  I  can  tell  you  something  about 
that  insect.  I  never  had  any  of  them  myself,  but  I've  read 
of  them." 

''Never  had  'em  himself!"  thought  Si.  ''What  'n  the 
world  does  he  mean?"  And  Si's  big  eyes  opened  with 
wonder  and  fear  at  the  thought  that  whatever  it  was  he 
had  "got 'em." 

"I  suppose,"  continued  the  captain,  "you  would  like  to 
know^  the  scientific  name  ?" 

*'I  reck'n  that'll  do  's  well  's  any." 

"Well,  sir,  that  is  a  Pediculus.  That's  a  Latin  word^ 
but  it's  his  name." 

"Purty  big  name  fer  sich  a  leetle  bug,  ain't  it,  Perfes- 
sor?"  observed  Si.  "Name's  big  enough  for  an  el'fant  er 
a  'potamus." 

"It  may  seem  so.  Corporal;  but  when  3^ou  get  intimately 
acquainted  with  him  I  think  you  will  find  that  his  name 
isn't  any  too  large  for  him.  There  is  a  good  deal  more  of 
him  than  you  think." 

The  young  soldier's  eyes  opened  still  wilder. 

"I  v^as  going  on  to  tell  you,"  continued  the  lieutenant,, 
"that  there  are  several  kinds  of  pediculi — we  don't  say 
pediculuses.  There  is  the  pediculus  capitis — Latin  again, 
but  it  means  the  kind  that  lives  on  the  head.  I  presume 
when  3'ou  were  a  little  shaver  your  mother  now  and  then 
harrowed  your  head  with  a  fine-tooth  comb  ?" 

"Ya-as"  said  Si;  "she  almost  took  the  hide  off  some- 
times, 'n'  made  me  yell  like  an  Injun." 

"Now,  Mr.  Klegg,  I  don't  wish  to  cause  you  unneces- 
sary alarm,  but  I  will  say  that  the  Jiead  insect  isn't  a  cir- 
cumstance to  this  one  on  your  arm.     As  you  would  express 


248  CORPORALS  IX  JEOPARDY. 

it,  perhaps,  he  can't  hold  a  candle  to  him.  This  fellow  is 
the  pediculus  corporis  /" 

"I  s'pose  that  means  they  eats  up  corporals !"  said  Si> 
with  a  terrified  glance  at  the  two  stripes  on  his  arm. 

"I  do  not  think  the  pediculus  corporis  confines  himself 
exclusiYcly  to  corporals,  as  his  name  might  indicate,-'  said 
the  lieutenant,  laughing  at  Si's  literal  translation  and  per- 
sonal application  of  the  word.  "He  no  doubt  likes  a 
juicy  and  succulent  corporal,  but  I  don't  believe  he  is  any 
respecter  of  persons.  That's  my  opinion,  from  what  I've 
heard  about  him.  It  is  likely  that  I  will  be  able  to  speak 
more  definitel}^  from  experience,  after  a  while.  Corporis 
means  that  he  is  the  kind  that  pastures  on  the  human 
bod\^  But  there's  one  thing  more  about  this  fellow. 
They  sometimes  call  him  pediculus  vestimenti ;  that  is 
because  he  lives  around  in  the  clothing. 

■"But  wedon't  wear  no  vests,''^  said  Si,  taking  a  practical 
view  of  this  new  word;  "nothin'  but  blouses,  'n'  pants, 
'n'  shirts." 

"You  are  too  literal,  Mr.  Klegg.  That  word  means  any 
kind  of  clothes.  But  I  guess  I've  told  you  as  much  about 
him  as  you  care  to  know  at  present.  If  3^ou  want  any 
more  information,  after  two  or  three  weeks,  come  and  vSee 
me  again.  I  think  by  that  time  you  will  not  find  it  neces- 
sary to  ask  any  more  questions." 

Si  went  back  to  his  cooking,  with  the  pediculus  still  on 
his  arm.  He  wanted  to  show  it  to  Shorty.  The  heuten- 
ant's  explanation,  with  its  large  words,  was  a  little  too 
much  for  him.  He  did  not  yet  clearly  comprehend  the 
matter,  and  as  he  walked  thoughtfully  to  where  Shorty 
was  boiling  the  coffee  he  was  trying  to  get  through  his 
head  what  it  all  meant. 

"Hello,  Si,"  said  Shorty;  "whar  ye  bin?  What  d'ye 
mean,  goin'  off  'n'  leavin'  j^er  meat  half  done  ?  " 

"Sh-h!  "  replied  Si.  "Ye  needn't  git  3^er  back  up  about 
it.    Been  talkin'  to  the  leftenant,_Shorty ;  look  at  that  'ere 


SHORTY  LETS  IN  THE  LIGHT.  249 

"bdg!"  And  Si  pointed  to  the  subject  of  the  officer's  lec- 
ture on  natural  history- that  was  still  creeping  on  his  arm. 
Shorty  slapped  his  thigh  and  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

'*  Was  that  what  ye  went  to  see  him  'bout?  "  he  asked 
as  soon  as  he  could  speak-. 

"Why — ya-as,"  replied  Si,  surprised  at  Shorty's  unseemly 
levity.  ''I  saw  that  thing  crawlin'  'round,  'n'  I  was 
a-wonderin'  what  it  was,  fer  I  never  seen  one  afore.  I 
knowed  the  leftenant  was  a  scholard  'n'  a  perfesser,  'n'  all 
that,  'n'  I  'lowed  he  c'd  tell  me  'bout  it.  So  I  went  'n* 
axed  him." 
''What 'd  he  tell  ye?" 

*'He  told  me  lots  o'  big,  heathenish  words,  *n^  said  this 
bug  was  a  ridiculus,  er  suthin'  like  that." 

''  'Diculus  be  bio  wed !  "  said  Shorty.  ''  The  ole  man  was 
a-stuffin'  of  ye.  I'll  tell  ye  what  that  is.  Si,"  he  added 
solemnly,  'that's  a  grayback!  " 

''A  grayback!  "  said  Si.  ''I've  hearn  'em  call  the  John- 
nies, graybacks,  but  I  didn't  know  's  there  was  any  other 
kind." 

"I  reck'n  twon't  be  long,  now,  t'll  yer  catches  on  ter  the 
meanin'  of  what  a  grayback  is.  Ye'll  know  all  'bout  it 
purty  sudden.    This  ain't  the  fust  one  I  ever  seen." 

Si  was  impressed,  as  he  often  had  been  before,  by 
•Shorty's  superior  wisdom  and  experience. 

"See  here,  Si,"  Shorty  continued,  as  his  eye  suddenly 
lighted  up  with  a  brilliant  thought,  "I  guess  I  kin  make 
ye  understand  what  a  grayback  is.  What  d'ye  call  that 
coat  ye've  got  on?  " 

"Why,  that's  a  fool  question;  it's  a  blouse,  o'  course!" 
"  Jesso !  "  said  Shorty.    "Now,  knock  off  the  fust  letter  o* 
;that  ^^ord,  'n'  see  what  ye  got  left !  " 

Si  looked  at  Shorty  as  if  he  thought  his  conundrums 
Avere  an  indication  of  approaching  idiocy.  Then  he  said, 
half  to  himself: 

' '  Let's  see !  Blouse— blouse — take  off  the  fust  letter,  that's 


250  A  CHEERFUL  PICTURE. 

'b'— 'n'  she  spells  1-o-u-s-e,  louse.    Great  Jemimy,  Shorty^ 
is  that  a  louse  ?  " 

''That's  jest  the  size  of  it,  Si.  Ye'll  have  millions  on  'em 
*fore  the  war's  over  'f  they  don't  hurry  up  the  cakes." 

Si  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  dig  a  hole  and  get  into  it 
and  have  Shorty  cover  him  up. 

''Why  didn't  the  leftenant  tell  me  'twas  that?  He  said 
suthin'  about  ridiculus  corporalis,  and  I  thought  he  was- 
makin'  fun  o'  me.  He  said  these  bugs  liked  to  eat  nice,  fat 
corporals." 

"I  reck'n  that's  so,"  replied  Shorty;  "but  they  likes 
other  people  jest  as  well — even  a  skinny  feller  like  me.  They 
lunches  off 'n  privits,  'n'  corp'rils,  'n'  kurnals,  'n'  gin'rals,. 
all  the  same.  They  ain't  satisfied  with  three  square  meal» 
a  day,  nuther;  they  jest  eats  right  along  all  the  time 
'tween  reg'lar  meals.  They  alius  gits  hungry  in  the  night,, 
too,  and  chaws  a  feller  up  while  he's  asleep.  They  don't 
give  ye  no  show  at  all.  I  rayther  think  the  graybacks  likes 
the  ossifers  best  if  they  could  have  their  ch'ice,  'cause 
they's  fatter  'n  the  privits ;  they  gits  better  grub." 

Si  fairly  turned  pale  as  he  contemplated  the  picture  so 
graphically  presented  by  Shorty.  The  latter's  explanation 
was  far  more  effectual  in  letting  the  light  in  upon  Si's  mind 
than  the  scientific  disquisition  of  the  "perfesser."  He  had 
now  a  pretty  clear  idea  of  what  a  "grayback"  was. 
Whatever  he  lacked  to  make  his  knowledge  complete  was- 
soon  supplied  in  the  regular  way.  But  Si  was  deeply 
grieved  and  shocked  at  what  Shorty  had  told  him. 

"Shorty,"  he  said,  with  a  sadness  in  his  tone  that  would 
almost  have  moved  a  mule  to  tears,  "who'd  a- thought  I'd 
ever  git  as  low  down  's  this,  to  have  them  pesky  gray- 
backs,  's  ye  call  'em,  crawlin'  over  me.  How  mother  'd 
feel  if  she  knew  about  'em.  She  wouldn't  sleep  a  wink  fer 
a  month?" 

"Ye'll  have  ter  come  to  it,  Si.  All  the  soljers  does,  from 
the  major-gin'rals  down  to  the  tail-end  o'  the  mule- whack- 


A  LESSON  IX  EXTERMINATION. 


251 


ers.    Ye  mind  them  'Sconsin  chaps  we  was  lookin'  at  a 
little  bit  ago?" 

*'Yes,"saidSi. 

**  Wall,  graybacks  was  what  ailed  'em.  The  fellers  with 
their  shirts  on  their  knees  was  killin'  on  'em  off.  That's 
what  they  calls  'skirmishin'.'  There's  other  kinds  o'  skir- 
mishin'  besides  fightin'  rebels !  We'd  better  git  rid  o'  that  one 
on  yer  arm,  ef  he  hain't  got  inside  a-ready ;  then  ther'  '11  be 
one  less  on 'em ;  but  ef  ye  don't  watch  out  ther'  '11  be  a  thou- 
san'  comin'  ter  the  fun'ral !  " 

Si  found  him  after  a  short  search,  and  proposed  to  get  a 
chip,  carry  him  to  the 
fire  and  throw  him  in. 

''Naw!"  said  Shorty 
in  disgust,  ^Hhat's  no 
way.  Lemme  show  ye 
how!" 

Shorty  placed  one 
thumb-nail  on  each  side 
of  the  insect.  There 
was  a  quick  pressure, 
a  snap  like  the  crack  of 
a  percussion  cap,  and 
all  was  over. 

Si  shuddered,  and 
^wondered  if  he  could 
ever  engage  in  such  a  work  of  slaughter. 

''D'ye  s'pose,"  he  said  to  Shorty,  "that  there's  anymore 
of  'em  on  me  ?"  And  he  began  to  hitch  his  shoulders  about^ 
and  to  feel  a  desire  to  put  his  fingers  to  active  use. 

''Shouldn't  wonder,"  replied  Shorty.  "Mebbe  I've  got 
^em,  too.   Let's  go  out  'n'  do  a  little skirmishin' ourselves." 

"We'd  better  go  off  a  good  ways,"  said  Si,  "so  the  boys 
won't  see  us." 

'  *  You're  too  nice  and  pertickler  for  a  soljer.  Si.  The^^'ll  all 
bedoin'  it, even  the  cap'n  himself, by termorrerernex'da^?. " 


PRACTICAL  INSTRUCTION. 


252 


A  TOUCHING  SCENE. 


They  went  out  back  of  the  camp,  where  Si  insisted  on 
getting  behind  the  largest  tree  he  could  find.  Then  they 
sat  down  and  engaged  in  that  exciting  chase  of  the  pedic- 
ulus  up  and  down  the  seams  of  their  garments,  so  familiar 
to  all  who  wore  either  the  blue  or  the  gray.  Thousands 
of  nice  young  men,  who  are  now  preachers  and  doctors 
and  lawyers  and  statesmen,  felt  just  as  badly  about  it  at 
first  as  Si  did.  But  they  all  became  very  expert  in  the  use 
of  the  thumb-nail. 

''Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  they  slowly  walked  back  to  eat 

their  supper,  whick 
had  been  neglected 
in  the  excitement  of 
the  hour,  "  afore 
Cotnpany  Q  started 
ter  jine  the  rijiment 
a  feller  't  was  home 
on  furlough  told  me 
ter  let  my  finger- 
nails grow  long  'n* 
sharp.  He  said  I'd 
need  'em.  I  didn't 
know  what  he 
meant  then,  but  I 
reck'nl  do  now." 
Among  the  mem- 
ories of  the  war  few  are  more  vivid  than  those  of 
the  numerous  little  pests  that,  of  one  kind  or  another, 
day  and  night,  year  in  and  year  out,  foraged  upon 
the  body  of  the  soldier.  In  every  new  locality  there 
seemed  to  be  a  fresh  assortment  of  ravenous  insects,  to 
cause  bodily  discomfort  and  drive  away  sleep.  Bullets 
and  screaming  shell  were  not  desirable  companions,  but 
as  a  rule  they  only  came  now  and  then;  while  the  bugs 
and  worms  and  insects,  in  every  form  that  flies  or  creeps, 
were  with  the  soldier  always.    Many  of  them,  though  an- 


.  .^e,*--  -^-—N 


SKIRMISHING. 


AT  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  CLASS. 


253 


It  would  appear 


nojing,  were  harmless,  while  others  seemed  to  have  been 
created  for  the  especial  purpose  of  spoiling  men's  tempers 
and  getting  them  into  the  habit  of  using  bad  language. 

Every  man  who  marched  and  scratched  will  place  the 
pediculus  at  the  head  of  the  list,  and  keep  him  there.  He 
was  everywhere— the  soldier's  close  and  intimate  compan- 
ion, in  camp  and  hospital  and  prison,  on  the  march  and  the 
battlefield.  The  faithful  portrait  here  given  represents  a 
robust  specimen  of  this  sportive  insect.  It  is  of  heroic 
size,  having  been  enlarged  twenty  times  by  the  aid  of  a 
microscope.  No  doubt  the  scientific  name  would  be  mys- 
tifying to  most  of  the  veterans  of  the  war,  but  no  practiced 
eye  can  fail  to  recognize  in  the  work  of  the  artist  an 
old  acquaintance  that  was  ever  present, 
not  unlikely  that  the  nat- 
uralists christened  the  in- 
sect by  this  sounding  name 
—  pedic ulus  ves  titnen ti  — 
so  that  it  could  be  used  in 
any  company  of  polite 
people  with  perfect  safety, 
as  not  one  person  in  a 
hundred  would  know 
what  it  meant.  If  doubt 
exists  in  the  mind  of  any  respecting  the  identity  of 
the  pediculus,  it  will  be  removed  by  the  following,  from 
the  American  Entomologist — a  magazine  in  which  the  wise 
men  tell  all  they  know,  or  can  guess  at,  about  bugs  and 
insects.    Itsavs: 


THE  PEDICULUS. 


[This  portrait  is  many  times  larger 
than  he  really  was,  but  not  half  as 
big  as  he  sometimes  seemed  to  be.] 


This  is  the  species  which,  during  the  late  war,  infested  so  grievously 
both  Union  and  rebel  soldiers,  from  whom  it  received  the  characteristic 
name  of  "grayback." 

This  is  the  name  that  strikes  the  veteran.  It  has  the  old, 
familiar  sound,  and  there  can  be  no  mistake  about  it.  The 
learned  writer  goes  on  to  discuss  the  theme  in  this  wav: 


254  A  TROUBLESOME  QUESTION. 

The  reason  that  it  was  so  prevalent  in  the  late  war  was  that  the  sol- 
diers, from  the  necessities  of  the  service,  were  unable  to  wash  their  cloth- 
ing as  often  as  they  would  have  done  at  home,  and  nineteen  times  out  of 
twenty  had  nothing  but  cold  water  to  wash  it  in.  Now,  almost  every 
species  of  insect  will  revive  after  an  immersion  of  several  hours  in  cold 
water,  whereas  water  of  such  a  temperature  that  you  cannot  bear  your 
finger  in  it  for  one  second  will  immediatelj''  destroy  any  insect,  whatever, 
that  is  immersed  in  it. 

One  of  the  great  problems  of  the  war  was  how  to  get 
rid  of  the  pediculus.  It  was  decidedly  a  practical  question, 
and  personally  interested  the  soldiers  far  more  than  those 
of  state  sovereignty,  confiscation  and  the  negro,  which 
agitated  the  minds  of  the  statesmen.  Probably  the  in- 
tellects of  most  of  the  soldiers  were  exercised  far  more  in 
planning  successful  campaigns  against  the  pediculus  than 
in  thinking  about  those  which  were  directed  against  Lee 
and  Jackson  and  Bragg  and  Joe  Johnston. 

This  arch  enemy  of  the  soldier  preyed  incessantly  upon 
''Yankee  "  and  rebel  alike.  But  for  this  fact  it  might  have 
been  imagined  that  the  pediculus  was  a  diabolical  inven- 
tion of  the  enemy,  more  to  be  dreaded  than  Gatling  guns, 
Greek  fire  or  breech-loading  rifles.  As  it  was,  he  feasted 
and  fattened  with  equal  enjoyment  upon  those  who  wore 
the  blue  and  the  gray,  officer  and  private.  * 

Sometimes  for  weeks  the  soldiers  tramped  through  heat 
and  dust,  night  and  day,  with  but  ver^^  rare  opportunities 
for  washing  either  their  clothes  or  their  persons.  Water, 
soap,  and  leisure  time  were  equally  scarce.    It  was  then 

*  During  a  long  midsummer  march,  the  writer  saw  a  robust  brigadier- 
general,  who  was  afterward  President  of  the  United  States,  engaged  in 
hunting  the  pediculus,  with  his  nether  garment  spread  out  upon  his 
knees  in  the  popular  style.  It  was  j  ust  after  the  army  had  bivouacked  for 
the  night  at  the  end  of  a  hard  day's  march.  The  soldiers  had  no  tents, 
nor  an\'i:hing  else  to  speak  of— except  gray  backs.  These  were  exceed- 
ingly numerous  and  active.  The  general  had  wandered  out  back  of  his 
headquarters,  and,  squatting  behind  a  large  tree,  applied  his  energies  to 
-the  work  of  "skirmishing,"  while  the  setting  sun  cast  a  mellow  glow 
over  the  touching  scene.  Not  far  away,  behind  other  big  trees,  were  two 
■of  his  staff  officers  similarly  engaged— cracking  jokes  and  graybacks. 


HOT  WATER  AND  THUMB-NAIL.  255 

that  the  pediculus  had  a  prolonged  season  of  sumptuous 
living.  There  was  Httle  chance  for  the  effective  boiling 
process.  When  a  few  afflicted  men  were  so  fortunate  as 
to  secure  the  use  of  a  kettle,  thej  wandered  about  in  puris 
naturalibus  above  the  latitude  of  the  waistband,  while 
they  crowded  the  fire  and  suffered  the  boiling  water  to  do 
its  purifying  work.  It  was  useless  to  try  to  drown  the 
insects.  In  boiling  lay  the  only  hope  of  extermination, 
and  even  this  gratifying  effect  was  but  temporary-,  for  it 
did  not  take  long  to  ''catch  'em"  again.  Scalding  water 
also  brought  to  an  un- 
timely end  all  the  eggs 
■or  '*  nits, "  thus  pre- 
venting the  birth  of  a 
new  generation  to  join 
the  marauding  forces. 
Therein  lay  the  advan- 
tage of  hot  ^^ater  over 
that  universal  weapon, 
the  thumb-nail,  which 
slcAV  its  millions.  This 
was  none  the  less  effec- 
tive as  far  as  it  went,  ^ 
but  it  was  a  good  deal 
slower,  requiring  time 
and  patience.  The^ 
thumb-nail  could    not  ^^^  ^^  i-^fe's  pleasures. 

reach  out  into  the  future,  as  it  were,  like  the  foaming 
camp-kettle,  and  prematurely  cut  off  myriads  yet  unborn. 

In  the  southern  prisons,  where  thousands  of  Union  sol- 
diers were  huddled  together,  with  no  change  of  clothing 
and  only  the  most  limited  cleansing  facilities,  the  swarms 
of  lice  that  preyed  constantly  upon  the  wretched,  starving 
men,  added  immeasurably  to  their  sufferings. 

It  was  a  source  of  continual  wonder  to  the  soldiers 
where  the  countless  multitudes  of  graybacks  came  from. 


256  MEMORIES  OF  THE  MOSQUITO. 

A  German  naturalist  has  brought  his  mathematics  to  bear 
upon  the  subject,  and  finds  that  two  kmah  pediculi  will  in 
eight  weeks  become  the  mothers  and  grandmothers  of  a 
posterity  numbering  not  less  than  ten  thousand!  Some 
people  might  not  beheve  this,  but  no  old  soldier  will  have 
the  slightest  doubt  of  the  entire  correctness  of  the  statement. 
Indeed,  if  the  professor  had  said  ten  million  he  could  have 
found  a  cloud  of  witnesses  read}'  to  sustain  him  with 
affidavits. 

The  second  place  on  the  list  of  pests  may  be  awarded  ta 
the  mosquito— more  famiUarly  known  as  the  "skeeter." 
This  insect  was  often  quite  as  numerous  as  the  pediculus,- 
In  low,  damp  regions,  during  warm  weather,  swarms  of 
these  bloodthirsty  insects  drove  the  soldiers  to  the  borders- 
of  distraction.  They  came  in  hteral  clouds,  filling  the  air, 
the  hum  of  a  million  wings  swelling  in  maddening  chorus. 
The  naturalists  say  a  mosquito's  wings  vibrate  three 
thousand  times  a  minute.  The  soldier  who  has  heard 
them  buzzing  in  his  ears  will  certify  that  this  is  not  an 
overestimate.  How  man}^  times  he  found  sleep  possible 
only  b}^  curling  up  under  his  blanket  and  covering  every 
inch  of  feet,  hands  and  head,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  being 
smothered !  Sometimes  the  mosquitoes  would  not  be  baflfled 
even  in  this  way,  and  they  would  prod  their  bills  through 
the  blanket  and  pierce  their  victim.  Then  he  would  rush 
wildlv  out  and  heap  on  the  fire  something  that  would 
make  a  great  smudge.  Sitting  down  in  the  thickest  of  the 
smoke,  he  would  weep  and  cough  and  sneeze  and  strangle 
and  swear— even  this  deplorable  condition  being  preferable 
to  the  torments  of  the  ''skeeters."  This  picture  is  not 
overdrawn.  Such  scenes  were  common  in  many  localities, 
from  the  Chickahominy  to  the  Rio  Grande. 

The  mosquito  reached  his  highest  state  of  physical  and 
carniverous  development  on  the  arid  plains  of  Texas. 
Those  vx'ho  spent  the  summer  and  fall  months  in  that  for- 
saken region  are  fully  prepared  to  defend  the  affirmative 


TOUGH,   BUT  TRUE.  257 

of  this  proposition.  During  September  and  October,  in 
the  evening,  the  visitations  were  simply  appalHng.  A  few 
of  the  soldiers  had  foreseen  the  impending  evil  and  pro- 
vided themselves  with  netting,  but  to  the  great  mass  of 
them  the  remembrance  of  those  nights  is  like  a  hideous 
dream.  They  frequently  sat  up  a  good  part  of  the  night, 
their  ''pup"  tents  tightly  buttoned,  and  a  smudge  of 
weeds  and  grass  within.  In  addition  to  this  everj^  man 
had  his  pipe  filled  with  "navy  plug'*  or  "niggerhead,"  and 
the  viler  the  tobacco  the  more  effective  was  the  smoke 
upon  the  mosquitoes. 

The  writer  one  afternoon  rode  a  horse  over  the  prairie, 
a  distance  of  about  ten  miles.  Before  starting  he  took  the 
precaution  to  cover  his  hands  with  gauntlets,  tying  them 
closely  around  the  wrists,  and  to  wind  cloths  around  his 
head  until  he  looked  like  a  mumm3^  By  the  time  his  des- 
tination was  reached  he  and  portions  of  his  horse  were 
completely  covered  with  masses  of  mosquitoes,  clinging  to 
one  another  and  hanging  in  festoons  from  every  point. 
He  avers,  with  full  knowledge  of  the  fate  of  Ananias  for 
telling  a  lie,  that  he  could  have  scraped  off  four  quarts  of 
them  from  his  person  and  the  beast  he  rode. 

The  woodtick  was  worthy  of  note  for  his  patient  in- 
dustry and  the  quiet  manner  in  which  he  fulfilled  his  mis- 
sion. He  did  not  make  any  fuss,  like  the  mosquito,  to  give 
warning  of  his  designs  and  enable  his  victim  to  take  pre- 
ventive measures.  He  had  a  most  persistent  way  of 
getting  in  under  one's  clothes.  When  a  southern  tick  made 
up  his  mind  to  have  a  taste  of  Yankee,  access  to  the  body 
was  not  difficult  through  the  holes  in  the  garments  left  by 
the  tailor,  or  those  resulting  from  the  wear  and  tear  of 
the  service.  Then  he  would  look  around  to  find  some  ten- 
der spot,  and  settle  down  to  his  work.  The  victim  was 
not  often  aware  of  his  presence  until  he  had  burrowed 
nearly  or  quite  under  the  skin.  He  could  easily  get  there 
in  the  course  of  a  night,  for  the  tick  neither  slumbered  nor 


258 


THE  QUiET  WOODTICK. 


slept.  On  getting  up  in  the  morning  the  soldier  would 
feel,  perhaps  on  the  arm  or  the  fleshy  part  of  the  leg,  an 
itching  sensation.  Applying  his  hand  to  the  spot,  he  would 
detect  a  small  lump  that  he  instinctively  felt  did  not  belong 
there.  In  fact,  after  a  little  experience  he  would  knowT^ght 
away  that  he  ''had  a  woodtick." 

The  insect's  industrious  habits  made  it  desirable  to  muster 
him  out  of  the  Confederate  service  as  soon  as  possible. 
There  was  no  telling  where  he  would  not  plow  his  way  if  left 
free  to  carry  on  his  little  campaign.    So  the  sufferer  would 


A  FEW   OLD  ACQUAINTANCES. 

at  once  prepare  for  an  inspection  by  taking  off  his  shirt  or 
trousers,  according  to  the  location  of  the  lump.  If  it  hap- 
pened to  be  around  where  he  could  not  reach  it,  he  would 
get  a  comrade  to  diagnose  the  case  and'  apply  the  remedy. 
If  the  tick  had  only  his  head  under  the  skin,  it  was  not  a 
difficult  matter.  A  grasp  with  thumb  and  finger  and  a 
quick  jerk  would  separate  the  blood-distended  body  from 
the  head,  leaving  the  latter  to  be  removed  by  a  little  heroic 
treatment  with  a  jack-knife.  The  woodtick  never  let  go, 
and  could  not  be  drawn  out  any  more  easily  than  a  fislv 


CONCERNING  THE  " JIGGER."  259 

hook  after  it  has  entered  past  the  barb.  He  could  only  be 
disposed  of  by  pulling  him  in  two  and  getting  rid  of  him 
in  sections.  Occasionally  one  burrowed  so  far  that  the 
knife  of  the  surgeon  was  found  necessary.  The  woodtick 
is  not  venomous.  It  is  not  likely  that  he  ever  killed  any- 
body, but  he  was  an  unmitigated  nuisance. 

That  exasperating  insect  commonly  known  as  the  "jig- 
ger," could  make  as  much  trouble  for  his  size  as  any  of  the 
pests  that  disturbed  the  peace  of  mind  and  body  of  the  sol- 
dier. The  only  redeeming  feature  about  the  jigger  was 
that  he  was  confined  to  certain  localities,  and  did  not 
insist  on  sticking  by  and  traveling  right  along  with  the 
soldiers,  like  the  vengeful  pediculus.  Whenever  they 
camped  where  he  -was,  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to 
make  it  lively  and  interesting,  but  when  they  rolled  up  their 
blankets  and  moved  away,  he  stayed  behind.  The  jigger 
dwelt  chiefly  among  the  leaves  on  the  ground  and  in  the 
bark  of  old  logs .  If  the  camp  was  kept  thoroughly  policed, 
there  was  comparatively  little  trouble  from  this  source. 

The  correct  orthography  of  the  name,  according  to  the 
books,  is  ''chigoe."  The  big  dictionaries,  however,  allow 
''jigger,"  and  this  sounds  more  natural  than  the  other. 
The  jigger  is  a  very  small  insect,  often  not  more  than  half 
as  large  as  the  head  of  a  pin.  When  the  soldiers  remem- 
ber how  much  he  could  do,  small  as  he  ^was,  toward  mak- 
ing life  a  burden,  their  hearts  are  filled  with  gratitude  that 
the  jigger  wasn't  any  bigger.  The  fact  is  there  were  two 
or  three  wholly  different  insects,  about  equally  pestifer- 
ous, which  were  grouped  under  the  convenient  name  of 
"jiggers."  One  of  them  was  of  a  bright  red  color,  and  so 
small  that  a  person  had  to  look  twice  to  see  him.  But 
there  was  no  trouble  in  feeling  him  after  he  had  made  his 
way  under  the  skin,  causing  a  keen  smarting  sensation 
that — when  a  man  had  half  a  dozen  of  them  at  once— 
would  almost  drive  him  frantic.    The  soldiers  often  got 


260  THE  WICKED  FLEA. 

Up  in  the  night  and  lighted  a  candle  or  torch  to  hunt 
jiggers. 

This  category  would  be  incomplete  without  the  nimble 
flea— the  kangaroo  of  the  insect  world.  The  peculiarity 
of  the  flea  is  his  jumping  propensity,  and  the  consequent 
difiiculty  of  catching  him.  In  this  respect  the  flea  is  wiser 
and  smarter  than  his  fellows.  Most  of  the  bugs  and  in- 
sects that  pester  the  human  family  become  so  absorbed  in 
their  biting  and  blood-sucking  that  they  are  wholly  obliv- 
ious of  personal  safety.  While  they  are  gorging  themselves 
they  think  of  nothing  else,  till  there  comes  a  well-directed 
slap,  and  they  are  no  more.  But  it  isn't  so  with  the  flea — 
"put  your  finger  on  him  and  he  isn't  there."  He  is  a  b^^- 
liever  in  the  Hudibrastic  theory,  that 

He  who  bites  and  runs  away 
May  live  to  bite  another  day. 

He  keeps  the  danger  flag  flying  when  upon  his  forays,  and  if 
his  quick  eye  detects  a  hostile  demonstration  he  gives  one 
of  those  jumps  that  have  made  his  name  a  proverb. 

There  are  said  to  be  ten  distinct  varieties  of  fleas,  infesting 
different  animals.  The  one  known  as  the  ''human  flea,"  is 
very  fastidious  in  his  tastes.  He  does  not  like  the  flavor 
of  dog  or  mule,  and  preys  only  upon  the  human  race.  It 
is  not  often  that  he  gets  so  good  a  chance  as  the  army 
afforded  him.  At  some  times  and  places  the  fleas  were  ex- 
ceedingly annoying,  infesting  clothing,  blankets  and  old 
straw,  biting  and  hopping  around  in  a  way  that  was  most 
trying  to  the  temper.  It  was  their  agility  in  getting  away 
that  made  a  soldier  mad  in  spite  of  himself.  Even  after 
the  lapse  of  more  than  twenty  years,  it  is  impossible 
for  him  to  think  of  the  army  flea  with  any  degree  of 
calmness. 

The  '  *  black  fly  "  is  scarcely  an  eighth  of  an  inch  in  length, 
but  he  is  gifted  with  wonderful  abilities  in  the  way  of  an- 
noying man  or  beast.  The  soldiers  rarely  found  them  in 
the  open  country  or  on  high  ground,  but  in  the  swamps 


THE  TARANTULA.  261 

and  canebrakes  they  were  terrible.  Their  peculiar  method 
of  torture  was  to  get  into  the  ears  and  nose — and  the 
mouth,  if  it  was  not  kept  tightly  closed— and  bore  and 
bite  and  buzz  until  the  victim  was  well-nigh  crazed. 
Horses  and  mules  were  sometimes  so  beset  by  countless 
thousands  of  these  tiny  insects,  that  they  became  almost 
unmanageable  in  their  desperate  efforts  to  escape  from 
their  tormentors.  When  circumstances  compelled  a  body 
of  troops  to  bivouac  among  the  black  flies,  there  was  no 
sleep  worth  mentioning  for  anybody. 

The  repulsive  and  deadly  tarantula  is  too  large  to  be 
called  an  insect  and  may  be  classed  among  reptiles.  It  is 
an  exaggerated  spider,  frequently  reaching  the  size  of  a 
man's  hand.  Its  bite  is  venomous  and  often  fatal.  Com- 
paratively few  of  the  northern  soldiers  formed  its  ac- 
quaintance, as  it  is  only  found  in  the  extreme  southern 
portion  of  the  United  States,  and  rarely  outside  of  Texas. 
It  lives  in  the  ground  and  comes  out  of  its  hole  to  wander 
about  in  quest  of  prey.  When  the  camps  were  thoroughly 
policed  out  to  the  guard-line,  the  tarantula  did  not  often 
find  his  way  across  the  beat.  It  was  common  to  meet 
tarantulas  when  walking  over  the  prairie,  but  they  could 
always  be  killed  without  difficulty.  It  is  well  known  that 
copious  draughts  of  whisky  are  considered  an  antidote 
for  the  bite  of  a  venomous  reptile.  For  a  few  days  aftef 
reaching  Texas  the  soldiers  worked  the  tarantula  for  all  it 
was  worth.  One  of  them  would  prick  his  foot  or  hand 
with  a  knife,  just  enough  to  bring  the  blood,  and  then  he 
would  start  on  a  wild  run  for  the  doctor's  tent,  shouting 
that  he  had  been  bitten  by  a  "tarantler."  The  doctor 
would  pour  whisky  down  his  throat  until  he  had  filled 
him  up,  and  the  man  would  go  away  happy.  This  worked 
very  nicely  until  the  trick  was  discovered. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Si  has  Some  Practical  Lessons  in  the  Duties  of  a  Corporal. 

THE  chevrons  on  Si  Klegg's  arms  had  raised  him  sev- 
eral degrees  in  the  estimation  of  not  only  himself, 
but  the  other  members  of  the  company.  His  conduct  in 
the  skirmish  had  shown  that  he  had  in  him  the  material 
for  a  good  soldier,  and  even  the  orderly  began  to  treat  him 
with  that  respect  due  to  his  new  rank  as  one  of  the  "non- 
commish." 

Like  ever^^  other  man  who  put  on  the  army  blue  and 
marched  away,  ''with  gay  and  gallant  tread,"  Si  could 
not  tell  whether  he  was  going  to  amount  to  anything  as  a 
soldier  until  he  had  gone  through  the  test  of  being  under 
fire.  There  w^ere  many  men  who  walked  very  erectly, 
talked  bravely,  drilled  well,  and  made  a  fine  appearance 
on  dress  parade,  before  they  reached  "the  front,"  who 
wilted  at  the  "  zip  "  of  bullets  like  tender  corn  blades  nipped 
by  an  untimely  frost.  A  good  many  continued  in  that 
wilted  condition.  Some  of  them  w^ore  straps  on  their 
shoulders. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Si  was  somewhat  unduly  elated 
over  his  achievements  as  a  skirmisher  and  his  success  in 
starting  up  the  steep  hill  of  military  rank  and  fame.  It  is 
true  it  wasn't  much  of  a  fight  thc}^  had  that  day,  but  he 
thought  it  was  pretty  fair  for  a  beginning,  and  enough  to 
prove  to  both  himself  and  his  comrades  that  he  wouldn't 
be  one  of  the  "coffee  coolers  "  when  there  was  business  on 
hand. 

262 


SI  AS  CORPORAL  OF  THE  GUARD.  263 

"Corjjoral  Klegg,  3^ou  will  go  on  duty  to-night  with  the 
camp-guard!"  said  the  orderly  one  evening  as  the  200th 
Indiana  went  into  bivouac,  a  few  days  after  Si  had  been 
promoted. 

Si  responded  with  ready  promptness.  He  had  walked  a 
beat  once  or  twice  as  a  common  tramp,  and  had  not  found 
it  particularh'  pleasant,  especially  in  stormy  weather;  but 
now  he  was  a  peg  higher,  and  he  thought  as  corporal  he 
would  have  a  better  time.  He  had  already  observed  that 
the  rude  wands  of  army  life  were  tempered,  if  not  to  the 
shorn  lambs,  at  least  to  the  officers,  in  a  degree  propor- 
tionate to  their  rank.  The  latter  had  the  first  pick  of 
everything,  and  the  men  took  what  w^as  left.  The  officers 
always  got  the  softest  rails  to  sleep  on,  the  hardtack  that 
was  least  infested  by  worms,  the  bacon  that  had  the  few- 
est maggots,  and  the  biggest  trees  in  a  fight. 

''Forward— March!"  shouted  the  officer  in  command, 
when  the  detachment  was  ready.  Si  stepped  off  very 
proudly,  thinking  how  glad  his  good  old  mother  and 
sister  Maria  and  pretty  Annabel  would  be  if  thej^  could 
see  him  at  that  moment.  He  was  determined  to  discharge 
his  official  duties  with  rigorous  fidelity  and  make  the 
boys  stand  around  and  toe  the  mark  in  the  most  approved 
manner. 

When  the  guards  reached  the  place  selected  for  head- 
quarters, the  officer  briefly  lectured  them  in  regard  to  their 
duties,  impressing  upon  them  the  necessity  of  being  alert. 
There  was  only  a  thin  picket-line  between  them  and  the 
enemy.  The  safety  of  the  army  depended  upon  the  faith- 
fulness of  those  appointed  to  watch  while  others  slept. 
He  gave  them  the  countersign,  ''Bunker  Hill," and  ordered 
them  under  no  circumstances  to  allow  any  person  to  pass 
without  giving  it,  not  even  the  commanding  general  him- 
self. 

Then  the  "beats"  were  laid  off  and  numbered,  and  the 
guards  posted,  and  as  the  fast-gathering  shadows  deep« 


264  HE  WAS  INCORRUPTIBLE. 

ened  among   the   trees   the  sentinels    paced  to  and   fro 
around  the  tired  army. 

For  an  hour  or  two  after  the  guards  were  stationed  all 
was  quiet  along  the  line.  The  noise  of  the  great  camp 
w^as  hushed  for  the  night,  and  no  sound  broke  the  stillness 
of  the  gloomy  forest.  The  moon  arose  and  peeped  timidly 
through  the  branches. 

''Corporal  of  the  guard — Beat  number  six!" 

Si's  quick  ear,  as  he  lay  curled  up  at  the  foot  of  a  tree, 
caught  these  words,  rapidly  repeated  by  one  sentinel  after 
another.  It  was  his  first  summons.  He  sprang  to  his  feet, 
gun  in  hand,  his  heart  beating  at  the  thought  of  adven 
ture,  and  started  on  the  run  for  ''beat  number  six." 

"What's  up?"  he  said  to  the  guard,  with  a  perceptible 
tremor  in  his  voice. 

"There's  one  o'  the  boys  tryin'  to  run  the  guards !"  was 
the  answer.  "He's  been  out  foragin',  I  reckon.  He's  got 
a  lot  o'  plunder  he  wants  to  git  into  camp  with.  See 
him,  out  there  in  the  bush  ?" 

The  forager,  for  such  he  proved  to  be,  was  nimbly  dodg- 
ing from  tree  to  tree,  watching  for  a  chance  to  cross  the 
line,  but  the  alertness  of  the  guards  had  thus  far  kept  him 
outside.  He  had  tried  to  bribe  one  or  tw^o  of  the  boys  by- 
offering  to  "  whack  up  "  if  they  w^ould  let  him  pass,  or  give 
him  the  countersign  so  that  he  could  get  in  at  some  other 
point  in  the  cordon.  But  the  guards  were  incorrupti- 
ble. They  were  "fresh"  and  had  not  yet  learned  the 
scheme  of  accepting  an  offered  chicken,  a  juicy  section  of 
pig,  or  a  few  swxet  potatoes,  and  then  walking  off  to  the 
remote  limit  of  the  beat,  with  eyes  to  the  front,  while  the 
forager  shot  across  the  line  in  safety.  All  this  came  to 
them  in  the  fullness  of  time. 

The  raider  tried  in  vain  to  negotiate  with  Si.  Raising 
his  gun  to  a  "ready,"  the  corporal  ordered  the  man  to 
come  in  or  he  would  put  a  bullet  through  him.  The  best 
thing  to  do  under  the  circumstances  was  to  obey.    The 


A  SQUARE  MEAL  FOR  THE  COLONEL.  265 

forager,  who  belonged  to  Si's  company,  crept  up  to  Corpo- 
ral Klegg  and  in  a  conciliatory  tone  opened  a  parley. 

''You jest  lemme  in  'n'  you  may  have  yer  pick  o'  this 
stuff,"  said  he,  holding  up  a  fowl  in  one  hand  and  a  ham 
in  the  other.  ''It'll  be  all  right,  and  nobody  '11  never  know 
no  thin'  'bout  it!" 

Si  hesitated;  it  was  an  assault  upon  his  weak  point. 
The  offer  w^as  a  tempting  one,  but  he  remembered  his  re- 
sponsibility to  his  country,  and  his  stomach  appealed  in 
Tain.  Duty  came  before  stewed  chicken  or  roasted  spare- 
rib. 

"Can't  do  it!  "said  Si.  "  Ye've  got  holdo'  the  wrong  man 
this  time.  I  ain't  goin'  to  have  nobody  monkeyin'  'round 
while  I'm  corporal  o'  this  'ere  guard.  Come  'long  'th  me, 
'n'  step  out  lively,  too  !" 

Si  marched  the  culprit  back  and  delivered  him  up  to  the 
ofhcer,  who  commended  Si  for  his  fidelity.  The  officer 
sent  the  prisoner  to  regimental  headquarters,  and  the 
next  day  the  ground  back  of  the  colonel's  tent  was  strewn 
with  feathers,  chicken  bones,  ham  rinds  and  potato  skins, 
^while  the  unlucky  forager  who  had  provided  the  field  ofii- 
cers'  mess  with  such  a  royal  meal  had  to  carry  a  rail  for 
two  hours. 

An  hour  later  Si  had  another  experience.  The  captain 
of  Company  Q  felt  a  kindly  interest,  and  not  a  little  pride, 
in  him,  since  the  skirmish,  and  thought  he  would  take  a 
turn  that  night  and  see  whether  his  newly-made  corporal 
was  ''up  to  snuff." 

"Beat  number  three"  was  Si's  second  call.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  guard  the  latter  said : 

"Corporal,  here's  the  cap'n,  and  he  wants  to  in!  He 
hain't  got  the  countersign ;  shall  I  pass  him  ?  " 

"Good  evening.  Corporal!"  said  the  captain,  as  Si  came 
up,  at  the  same  time  extending  his  hand. 

Si  was  thrown  completely  off  his  guard.  Dropping  the 
butt  of  his  gun  carelessly  to  the  ground  he  replied  cheerily, 


266 


THE  CAPTAIN   ''PLAYED  IT''  ON  HIM. 


"Good  evenin',  Cap'n,"  touching  his  hat  by  way  of  salute, 
Then  he  took  the  proffered  hand,  pleased  at  the  captain's 
mark  of  kindly  recognition.  He  didn't  understand  the 
dark  plot  against  his  official  integrity. 
''How  are  you  getting  on,  Mr.  Klegg?" 
*'Fust  rate!"  said  Si,  with  the  air  of  one  conscious  that 
he  has  done  his  duty  well.  ''I  captured  a  forager  a  little 
bit  ago  and  took  him  to  headquarters ! " 

''Well  done,  Corporal.    I  have  no  doubt  you  will  honor 
the  good  name  of  the  200th  Indiana  in  general,  and  Com- 
es?^ ^^^^;^^  j^>^^-,-^   ^ — r-  ^       pany  Q  in  particular. 

I  got  caught  outside 
to-night,  and  I  want 
to  get  back  into  camp. 
Of  course  you  know 
me  and  it's  all  right  I" 
"  Certainly,  sir  V 
said  Si,  as  he  stood 
leaning  on  his  gun, 
and  allowed  the  offi- 
cer to  pass  the  magic 
line.  "  Good  night, 
Cap'n!" 

"Good  night.  Cor- 
poral!" 


"By  the  way, ' ' said 
the  captain,  retracing 


CORPORAL  KLEGG  GETS  CAUGHT. 


his  steps,  "I  notice  that  you  do  not  carry  your  gun  just 
right.     Let  me  show  you  how  to  handle  it !" 

Si  didn't  know  what  a  flagrant  offense  it  was  for  a  sol- 
dier on  guard  to  let  his  gun  go  out  of  his  hands ;  nor  had 
he  the  faintest  suspicion  that  the  captain  was  "playing 
it"  on  him.  So  he  promptly  handed  his  piece  to  the  officer 
who  immediately  brought  it  down  to  a  "charge,"  with  the 
bayonet  at  Si's  breast. 


A  BAD  BREAK.  267 

"Suppose,  now,  I  was  a  rebel  in  disguise,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, "what  kind  of  a  fix  would  3^ou  be  in?  " 

Light  began  to  dawn  upon  Si,  and  he  started  back  in 
terror  at  the  thought  of  the  mistake  he  had  made. 

*' Of  course,  I  wouldn't  let  anybody  else  have  it,"  he 
stammered ;   *'  but  I  knowed  you,  Cap'n !  " 

''That  makes  no  difference  to  a  man  on  duty.  Corporal. 
You  hang  on  to  your  gun  the  rest  of  the  night,  and  if  any- 
body— I  don't  care  who  it  is — insists  on  your  giving  it  to 
him,  let  him  have  two  or  three  inches  of  your  bayonet. 
Don't  let  anybody  pass  without  the  countersign,  either! 
Come  to  my  quarters  when  you  are  relieved  to-morrow." 

All  this  illustrates  a  way  the  officers  had  of  testing  new 
soldiers  and  teaching  them  a  thing  or  two,  v^hen,  as  was 
frequently  the  case,  they  were  not  yet  up  to  the  mark.  A 
trick  of  extra  duty  for  the  hapless  novitiate  was  generally 
the  penance  for  his  simplicity. 

The  cold  chills  ran  up  and  down  Si's  back  as  he  took  his 
gun  and  slowly  returned  to  the  guard-fire.  He  felt  that  he 
had  utterly  spoiled  his  good  record. 

''Lieutenant,"  he  said  to  the  officer,  "I  wish  ye'd  please 
detail  a  man  to  kick  me  for  about  an  hour !  " 

The  lieutenant  wanted  to  know  what  the  matter  was, 
and  Si  told  him  all  about  it,  ending  with : 

"So  now  I  s'pose  Cap  '11  yank  the  stripes  off 'n  my  blouse !" 

The  officer  quieted  his  fears  by  assuring  him  that  there 
was  no  cause  for  alarm.  The  captain  knew  that  he  was 
trying  to  do  his  duty,  and  what  he  had  done  was  for  Si's 
own  good. 

Si  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  was  thinking  it  over  when 
there  was  another  call, ' '  Corporal  of  the  guard !  "  He  was 
soon  at  the  point  indicated,  and  found  two  officers  on 
horseback,  whom  he  recognized  as  the  colonel  and  adju- 
tant of  the  200th  Indiana.  Si's  pard.  Shorty,  was  the 
guard  who  had  halted  them. 

"Now,  Corporal  ¥lcgg,"  said  Si  to  himself,  laying  his 


268         HOW  THE  COLONEL  GOT  THE  COUNTERSIGN. 


finger  alongside  his  nose,  ''you  jest  watch  out*  this  time. 
Here's  big  game!  Shouldn't  wonder  if  them  ossifers  'd 
been  out  skylarkin',  'n'  they're  tryin'  to  git  in.  Don't  ye 
let  'em  fool  jq  's  the  cap'n  did !  " 

Si  was  right  in  his  surmise.     The  colonel  and  adjutant 
had  been  enjoying  a  good  supper  at  a  house  half  a  mile 

awa}',  and  had  not 
the  faintest  idea 
what  the  counter- 
sign was. 

Si  was  determined 
not  to  get  caught 
this  time.  As  he  ap- 
proached, the  colonel 
saw  that  it  was  the 
soldier  he  had  com- 
mended for  his  gal- 
lantry at  the  time  of 
the  skirmish. 

'*  Ah,    Corporal 

Klegg,   I'm  glad  to 

see  you  so    prompt 

in  your  duty.    I  was 

sure  we   had   made 

no  mistake  when  we 

promoted   you.    Of 

course,  you  can  see 

"NOT  'LESS  YE  SAY  'BUNKER  hill!'"        who I  am.    I'm  your 

colonel,  and  this  is  the  adjutant.    We  are,  unfortunately, 

outside  without  the  countersign;  but  you  canjustletus 

through." 

The  ''ta%"  had  no  effect  upon  Si.  He  brought  himself 
into  a  hostile  attitude,  with  his  bayonet  in  fair  range 
of  the  officer,  as  he  replied  : 

"Colonel,  my  orders  is  ter  pass  no  livin'  man  'less  he 
says  'Bunker  Hill.'    I'd  be  glad  ter  do  ye  a  good  turn,  but 


SI  MAKES  ANOTHER  MISTAKE.  269 

thwr's  no  usetalkin'.  I'm  goin'ter 'be j  orders,  'n'  ye  can't 
git  in  here." 

The  colonel  chuckled  softly  as  he  dismounted  and  came 
up  to  Si. 

''It's  all  right,"  he  said.  ''Of  course  I  know  what  the 
countersign  is.    I  was  only  trying  you." 

"Hold  on,  there,"  said  Si,  "don't  come  too  close.  If 
ye've  got  the  countersign,  advance  'n'  give  it.  If  ye  hain't 
got  it,  I'll  jest  call  the  ossifer  o'  the  guard !  " 

Leaning  over  the  point  of  Si's  bayonet  the  colonel  gently 
whispered  "Bunker  Hill!" 

"Correct!  "  said  Si,  and  bringing  his  gun  to  a  "shoulder" 
he  respectfully  saluted  the  colonel.  The  latter  started  to 
remount,  but  turned  back  as  he  said : 

"Just  let  me  show  you  how  to  hold  your  gun.  You 
don't " 

"Not  ef  the  court  knows  herself,"  said  Si,  again  mena- 
cing the  colonel  with  his  bayonet.  ' '  That's  been  played  on 
me  once  to-night,  and  if  anybody  does  it  agin  my  name 
ain't  Si  Klegg ! " 

"That's  right.  Corporal,"  said  the  colonel,  as  he  sprang 
into  the  saddle :  "but  don't  tell  anybody  what  the  counter- 
sign is  again !  Good  night ! " 

"Good  night,  Colonel,"  said  Si,  touching  his  hat. 

As  the  officers  rode  away  Si  began  to  think  he  had  put 
Ms  foot  in  it  after  all.  He  was  confirmed  in  this  opinion 
by  seeing  Shorty  sit  down  on  a  log  in  a  paroxysm  of 
laughter. 

"Ye  give  yerself  away  had  that  time!"  said  Shorty,  as 
soon  as  he  could  speak.  "What  did  ye  tell  him  the  coun- 
tersign fer?" 

"  Whew-w-w-w!"  observed  Si,  with  a  prolonged  whistle. 

*  Shorty,"  said  he,  "I  wish  ye'd  take  a  club  and  see  'f  ye 

can't  pound  a  little  sense  into  me ;  I  don't  b'lieve  I've  got 

any!"  Without  another  word  he  shouldered  his  gun  and 

returned  to  the  guard  headquarters,  in  a  very  uncomfor* 


270 


NO  DANGER  THIS  TIME. 


table  frame  of  mind.  ''Now  I'm  a  goner,  sure!"  he  said 
to  himself. 

''Corporal  of  the  guard!"  was  heard  again,  sometime 
after  midnight.  "If  they  try  any  more  measly  tricks  on 
me  to-night  somebody  '11  git  hurt!"  thought  Si  as  he 
w^alked  briskly  along  the  line  in  response  to  the  call. 

This  time  it  was  a  "contraband" — an  old  negro,  who 
stood  shivering  with  terror  as  the  guard  held  him  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet.    Recalling  the  unlucky  adventures 

of  the  night.  Si  imagined 
that  it  was  one  of  the 
officers,  who  had  black- 
ened himself  like  a  min* 
strel,  and  had  come  there 
purposelj^  to  "  catch  " 
him. 

"Ye  can't  git  through 
'nless  ye've  got  the 
countersign, "he  said  de- 
cisively; "and  I  shan't 
give  it  to  ye,  nuther! 
And  ye  needn't  try  ter 
show  me  hov^  ter  hold 
my  gun  !  I  kin  handle 
it  well  enough  ter  shoot 
and  punch  the  bay 'net ! ' ' 

SI  AND  THE   CONTRABAND.  <<  Dou'       kuOW      what 

dat  all  means,  boss,"  said  the  frightened  negro;  "butfer 
de  good  Lawd's  sake  don't  shove  dat  t'ing  frew  me.  Ise 
only  been  ober  to  de  nex'  place  to  er  possum  roast  and 
Ise  jist  gwine  home.  I  didn't  know  dese  yer  ge-yards 
was  heah!" 

Si  didn't  propose  to  take  any  chances,  and  so  he  marched 
the  old  negro  to  the  guard  headquarters  anddeHvered  him 
to  the  officer,  vt^ho  kept  him  till  daylight,  and  then  suffered 
him  to  go  his  way. 


THEY  KILLED  HIM. 


271 


Once  more,  toward  morning,  Si  was  called  out,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  tramps  with  the  ''reliefs"  and  the  ''grand 
rounds."  It  was,  perhaps,  an  hour  before  daylight,  and 
Shorty  was  the  guard  who  called  him.  He  told  Si  there 
was  something  walking  around  in  the  woods,  and  he  be- 
lieved it  was  a  rebel  trying  to  creep  up  on  them.  He  had 
challenged  two  or  three  times,  but  got  no  answer.  The 
moon  had  gone  down,  and  in  the  dark  wood  objects  at  any 
distance  could  not  be  distinguished. 

"There,    d've    hear  _  .  «   .,       .^v  . 


that?"  said  Shorty,  as 
there  came  a  sound  of 
crackling  sticks  and 
rustling  leaves. 

"  Halt !  "  exclaimed 
Si.  "Who  comes 
there?" 

There  was  no  re- 
sponse, and  Si  chal- 
lenged again,  with  like 
result. 

"Shorty,"  said  Si, 
"let's  fire,  both  to- 
gether," and  crack 
went  their  muskets. 

For  a  moment  there 
was  a  great  flounder- 
ing, and  then  all  was  still.  As  soon  as  it  was  light,  and 
Shorty  was  relieved,  he  and  Si  went  out  to  see  the  result 
of  their  fire.    What  they  found  is  shown  by  the  artist. 

On  the  whole  it  was  a  busy  and  interesting  night  for  Si. 
He  did  not  lose  his  chevrons  on  account  of  his  mistakes. 
But  he  learned  something,  and  the  lesson  was  impressed 
upon  his  mind  by  a  fewkindly  words  of  caution  and  advice 
from  the  captain. 


A  DEAD  SHOT. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Si  has  a  Varied  Experience  in  Camp,  and  Goes  upon  an  Exasper- 
ating **WiLD  Goose  Chase." 

C  C"\  7'OU  can  take  it  eas}^  to-day,  boys,  for  we  ain't  goin*^ 
X  to  move,"  said  the  orderly  of  Company  Q,  one 
morning.  * '  The  orders  is  for  to  put  the  camp  in  nice  shape^ 
and  for  the  men  to  wash  up.  We're  goin'  to  have  an  ex- 
tra ration  of  soap  this  momin',  and  you  fellows  -want  to 
stir  around  lively  and  fix  yerselvesas  if  it  was  Sunday  and 
ye  was  goin'  to  meetin'.  The  fust  thing  after  breakfast  all 
hands  '11  turn  out  and  police  the  camp,  'cause  the  capt'n 
says  we're  goin'  to  stay  here,  mebbe,  fer  two  or  three 
-weeks." 

The  order  to  ''take  it  easy"  was  most  gratefully  re- 
ceived. Ever  since  they  took  the  field  they  had  been  kept 
"on  the  jump,"  with  only  now  and  then  a  brief  halt  of  a 
few  hours,  or  a  day  at  most.  This  was  the  first  time  that 
even  an  attempt  had  been  made  to  establish  a  well-ordered 
camp. 

''What  'n  the  world  did  the  ord'ly  mean  by  p'leecin'  the 
camp?"  Corporal  Klegg  asked  Shorty,  as  they  stood  by 
the  fire  making  coffee  and  warming  up  some  fragments  of 
chicken  that  had  been  left  over  from  supper  the  night  be- 
fore. "I  didn't  s'pose,"  said  Si,  "that  we  'listed  to  be 
p'leecemen!" 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  the  orderly  directed  each 
man  to  provide  himself  with  a  small  bundle  of  sticks,  made 

272 


ANOTHER  INDIGNITY. 


273 


by  putting  together  a  dozen  bits  of  brush  or  ''switches" 
three  or  four  feet  long,  such  as  are  used  by  rural  pedagogs 
to  enforce  discipline.  These  were  the  implements  used  in 
policing  camp,  which  meant  brushing  the  leaves  and  loose 
debris  outside  the  grounds. 

''Does  corporils  have  to  do  that  sort  o' thing?"  asked  Si. 
He  thought  army  regulations  and  camp  usage  ought  to 
show  some  consideration  for  his  rank.  "What's  the  use 
o'  wearin'  stripes,"  he  said  to  himself,  "ef  it  don't  give  a 
feller  a  chance  to  play  off  once  'n  a  while?" 

"Corporals  ain't  no  better  'n  anybody  else,"  replied  the 
orderly,    "  an^  you  can 
jest  git  some  brush  and 
go  to  work,  'long  with 
the  rest!" 

Si  was  disposed  to 
grumble  a  little,  but  he 
obeyed  orders  and  was 
soon  scratching  up  the 
leaves  and  dust  wath; 
great  zeal.  He  did  not 
find  it  a  particularly^ 
pleasant  occupation,, 
but  the  camp  looked  so 
much  better  when  the 
job  was  done,  that  he 
thought  it  was  not  a  bad  thing  after  all. 

''Now,  Si,"  said  Shorty,  "let's  go  down  to  the  creek 
and  do  our  washin'.  My  clothes  has  got  to  be  biled,  and 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  yourn  had,  too !" 

"Yes,  that's  a  fact !"  said  Si,  sadly. 

They  took  a  camp-kettle  that  had  been  used,  and  no 
doubt  w-ould  be  again,  for  making  bean-soup,  and  started 
for  the  stream  back  of  the  camp.  They  had  no  change  of 
clothing  with  them.  One  by  one  their  surplus  garments 
had  been  flung  away  during   the  march,   or   had   been 


policing"  camp. 


274  A  LITTLE  EXERCISE. 

*' traded"  to  the  natives  for  poultry.  THey  expected  to 
have  an  opportunity  to  stock  up  for  the  winter  when  the 
campaign  was  over. 

' '  Fall  in  for  batt aUon  drill ! ' ' 

These  cruel  words  fell  upon  their  ears  just  as  they 
were  starting  for  the  stream.  The  colonel  had  suddenly 
bethought  himself  that  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  put  the 
boys  through  for  an  hour.  He  told  the  adjutant  to  turn 
out  the  regiment,  and  the  rattle  of  drums  and  the  yells  of 
the  orderly  sergeants  carried  dismay  to  the  hearts  of  the 
men.  They  had  had  just  enough  battalion  drill,  during 
the  halts,  to  acquire  a  chronic  aversion  to  it  that  never 
forsook  them. 

*'So  that's  the  kind  of  an  'easy  time'  we're  goin'  ter 
have  to-day!"  exclaimed  Si,  as  he  and  Shorty  turned  back 
in  response  to  the  summons.  "Ef  there  's  anything  't  I 
hate  the  wust,  it's  battalion  drill.  I  sh'd  think  the  col- 
onel might  let  up  on  us  a  leetle  'n'  give  the  skin  a  chance 
to  grow  ag'in  on  our  feet." 

There  was  a  general  chorus  of  grumbling  as  the  men 
geared  themselves  up  and  took  their  places  in  line.  The 
colonel  galloped  them  around  in  the  various  regimental 
evolutions,  winding  up  with  a  wild  charge  upon  a 
hypothetical  line  of  intrenchments  that  left  everybody, 
•except  the  officers  who  were  on  horseback,  panting  and 
breathless.  Then  the  regiment  was  dismissed  for  the  day, 
after  the  cheering  announcement  that  while  they  remained 
in  camp  there  would  be  four  drills  daily. 

Shorty  proposed  to  his  comrade  that  the^^  make  their 
projected  trip  to  the  creek,  but  Si's  attention  was  absorbed 
in  another  direction.  The  camp  was  fast  filling  with  peo- 
ple, black  and  white,  from  the  region  round  about,  with 
com  ''pones,  "alleged  pies,  boiled  eggs  and  truck  of  various 
kinds,  which  they  sought  to  dispose  of  for  a  valuable  con- 
sideration. They  struck  a  bad  crowd,  however,  in  a  finan- 
cial sense.    The  members  of  the  200th  Indiana  were  not 


AN  INVESTMENT  IN   PIE.  275 

at  this  time  in  a  condition  of  opulence,  as  they  had  not 
been  out  long  enough  to  receive  a  visit  from  the  paymaster. 
The  lank  men  and  scrawny  women  cried  their  wares  vo- 
ciferously, but  with  indifferent  results.  The  boys  wanted 
the  stuff,  but  they  were  ^  ^  broke  "  and  trade  was  dull. 

Si  looked  wistfully  at  the  ''pies,"  and  suggested  to  Shorty 
a  joint  investment.  Their  purses  were  almost  empty,  but 
the  temptation  was  great,  and  he  thought  they  might 
raise  enough  to  buy  one. 

''Them  looks  nice,"  said  Si.  They  were  the  first  pies  he 
had  seen  since  leaving  home,  and  his  judgment  was  a  little 
warped.  Indeed  it  was  only  by  the  greatest  stretch  of 
courtesy  that  they  could  be  called  pies  at  all.  But  the 
^vord  touched  Si  in  a  tender  spot,  and  he  thought  only  of 
such  as  his  mother  used  to  make. 

Si  and  Shorty  "pooled  in"  and  bought  a  pie.  Impa- 
tiently whipping  out  his  pocket  knife  Si  tried  to  cut  it  in 
two.  It  was  hard  v^ork,  for  the  "crust" — so  called — ^was 
as  tough  as  the  hide  of  a  mule.  By  their  united  efforts 
they  at  length  succeeded  in  sawing  it  asunder.  It  was  a 
fearful  and  w^onderful  specimen  of  culinary  effort.  It  was 
made  of  two  slabs  of  sodden,  leather}^  dough,  with  a  thin 
layer  of  stewed  dried-apple  sandwiched  between  them.  Si 
tried  his  teeth  on  the  pie,  but  itw^as  like  trying  to  chew  an 
old  boot-leg. 

"I  say,  oldlady,"  said  he,  turningtothe  female  of  whom 
he  had  bought  it,  "is  these  pies  pegged  er  sewed  ?  " 

"Look  a  hyar,  young  feller,"  said  the  w^oman,  v^ith  con- 
siderable vinegar  in  her  tone,  "p'raps  you- all  thinks  it's 
right  smart  to  insult  we-uns;  it  shows  how  yer  wuz 
broughten  up.  I  don't  'lov^  yer  ever  seed  any  nicer  dog- 
goned  pies  'n  them  is.  Ye  needn't  try  ter  argefy  'long  'th 
me,  fur  I  kin  jest  knock  the  spots  off 'n  any  woman  thar 
is  'round  here  a-cookin'." 

Si  saw  that  it  would  be  profitless  to  discuss  the  matter, 


276  WHY  THE  FLOW   OF   CIDER  STOPPED. 

and  concluded  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain.  But  he 
couldn't  eat  the  pie. 

On  the  whole  the  hucksters  fared  rather  badly.  The 
boys  confiscated  most  of  the  stuff  that  was  brought  in, 
promising  to  pay  next  time  they  came  that  way.  There 
was  a  good  deal  of  friction,  but  the  trouble  always  ended 
in  the  soldiers  getting  the  plunder. 

The  climax  was  reached  when  a  putty-faced  citizen  drove 
into  camp  a  bony  mule,  tied  with  straps  and  ropes  and 
strings  to  a  crazy  cart,  on  which  was  a  barrel  of 
cider,  which  he  ''allowed"  to  sell  out  to  the  boys  at  ten 
cents  a  drink,  or  a  quarter  a  canteen  full.  He  had  a  spigot 
rigged  in  one  end,  and  an  old  tin  cup,  with  which  he 
dealt  out  the  seductive  beverage  to  such  as  would  buy. 

A  thirsty  crowd  gathered  around  him,  but  sales  were 
slow,  on  account  of  the  scarcity  of  money.  Si  and  Shorty 
mingled  with  the  boys,  and  then  drew  aside  and  engaged 
in  a  whispered  consultation. 

"That'll  be  jest  bully! "  said  Shorty.  ''Ef  ye  kin  raise 
an  auger  somewhere  we'll  bamboozle  that  old  chap." 

Si  returned  after  a  brief  absence,  with  an  auger  which  he 
had  borrowed  from  the  driver  of  an  ammunition  wagon. 

''Now,  Short}^"  said  Si,  "you  git  the  bo3^s  ter  stand 
'round  'n'  keep  up  a  racket,  and  I'll  crawl  under  the  cart 
and  bore  a  hole  inter  that  'ere  bar'l.  Then  pass  in  yer 
canteens  and  camp  kettles  'n'  we'll  show  the  old  man  a 
trick!" 

Shorty  quietly  broached  the  scheme  to  a  few  of  his  com- 
rades, who  fell  in  with  it  at  once.  Gathering  around  the 
cart  they  cheered  and  chattered  so  as  to  drown  any  noise 
Si  might  make  v/hile  carrying  out  his  plan,  and  which 
would  "give  it  away." 

It  was  not  more  than  a  minute  till  a  gurgling  sound  was 
heard,  and  Si  began  to  pass  out  to  the  boys  the  buckets 
and  canteens,  which  they  so  freel}^  furnished  him,  filled  with 
the  fast -flowing  contents  of  the  barrel.    It  did  not  take 


AtL  MDIGNANT  CITIZEN.  277 

long  to  empty  it  entirely,  nor  did  the  citizen  discover  the 
state  of  affairs  until  the  cider  no  longer  fan  from  the  spigot. 

He  had  not  sold  more  than  a  gallon  or  two,  and  was 
amazed  when  the  liquid  ceased  to  respond.  Then  he  re- 
solved himself  into  an  investigating  committee,  and  after 
a  protracted  search  he  discovered  the  fraud  that  had  been 
•played  on  him. 

''Wall,  111  be  gosh-durned!"  he  exclaimed,  ''I'veheern 
tell  'bout  Yankee  tricks,  but  dog  my  cats  if  this  'ere  don't 
beat  'em  all !  I'd  like  to  cut  the  gizzard  outen  the  rascal 
that  bored  the  hole  'n  that  bar'l!" 


"a  little  more  cider,  too." 

''I  declar',  old  pard,  that  was  mean!"  said  Si,  who 
stood  looking  on,  with  his  hands  in  his  trousers'  pockets, 
the  picture  of  innocence.  ''I'm  jest  goin'  ter  flax  'round  'n* 
help  ye  find  that  feller.  If  I  was  you  I'd  jest  wallop  him— 
when  ye  cotch  him !" 

The  citizen,  in  high  dudgeon,  poured  into  the  ears  of  the 
colonel  the  story  of  his  grievance,  protesting  with  great 
vehemence  his  loyalty  to  the  old  flag.  The  colonel  told 
him  that  if  he  could  identify  the  culprits  they  should  be 
brought  to  justice.     Of  course  he  could  do  nothing,  and  he 


278  A  WELCOME  LUXURY. 

finally  mounted  his  cart  and  drove  away  with  the  empty 
barrel. 

'^Ef  that  old  covey  loves  his  country  's  much  's  he  says 
he  does,"  remarked  Si,  *'I  guess  he  kin  'ford  ter  give  her  a 
bar'l  o'  cider!" 

After  dinner  Si  and  Shorty  took  the  camp-kettle  and 
again  started  for  the  stream. 

"Seems  ter  me,"  observed  Si,  ^'  'tain't  hardly  a  fair  shake 
for  Uncle  Sam  ter  make  us  do  our  washin'.  They'd  or  ter 
confisticate  the  niggers  'n'  set  them  set  it ;  er  I  don't  see 
why  the  guvyment  can't  furnish  a  washin'  masheen  for 
each  comp'ny!  'Twouldn't  be  no  more  'n  the  squar' 
thing!" 

"The  wimmen  does  the  washin',  ye  know.  Si,  up  whar 
we  live,"  said  Shorty,  "'n'  I  don't  quite  like  the  notion  o' 
doin'  that  kind  o'  work,  but  I  can't  jest  see  how  we're 
goin'  ter  git  out  of  it.    It's  got  ter  be  done,  that's  sure !" 

On  the  bank  of  the  stream  they  quickly  threw  off  their 
clothes  for  a  bath.  Si  cast  rueful  glances  at  his  garments 
as  he  laid  them  on  the  ground. 

"Hadn't  we  better  pile  some  rocks  on  'em,  Shorty?'* 
said  he.  "I'm  afeard  'f  we  don't  they'll  crawl  off  inter  the 
bush." 

"Guess  w^e  had,"  replied  Shorty.  "I  b'lieve  mine's 
started  a-ready !" 

Having  made  sure  that  they  would  not  find  them 
"absent  without  leave"  w^hen  they  wanted  them,  they 
plunged  into  the  water.  Far  up  and  down  the  stream 
^were  hundreds  of  men,  swimming  and  splashing  about. 
The  soldiers  availed  themselves  of  every  opportunity 
to  enjoy  this  luxury. 

Having  thoroughly  performed  their  ablutions.  Si  and 
Shorty  turned  their  attention  to  the  clothes,  which  wxre 
in  such  sore  need  of  soap  and  hot  water.  Putting  their 
trousers  into  the  kettle  and  filling  it  with  water,  they  built 
a  roaring  fire  under  it.    After  half  an  hour  of  vigorous 


SI  TRIES  AN  EXPERIMENT.  279 

boiling  they  concluded  the  clothes  were  ''done."  Plenty 
of  soap,  rubbing  and  rinsing  finished  the  work,  and  they 
presented  a  quite  respectable  appearance. 

''How 're  we  goin'  ter  git  'em  dry?"  asked  Si  as  he 
wrung  out  his  "w^ash." 

"Hang  'em  on  the  fence  in  the  sun !  "  replied  Shorty. 

"But  what'll  we  wear  while  they're  dryin' ? " 

"Nothin',  I  reckon!" 

So  they  spread  them  on  the  rails,  put  their  shirts  into  the 
kettle,  and  then  dashed 

again   into  the  w^ater.     ^^^^^^^^^^^^rs  ^^  .^r 
After  splashing  awhile 
they  came  out  and  drew 
on  their  half-dried  trou- 
sers.    All    along    the  j^ 
stream  were  soldiers  in 
every   stage   of    disha-  \;: 
bille,  similarly  engaged. 
Shorty  lighted  his  pipe 
as  he  and  Si  lay  down  -:^| 
upon   the    grass,    after 
making  a  fresh  fire  un- 
der the  kettle. 

"Say,  Shorty,"  said 
Si,  "  'tain't  very  wicked 
ter  smoke,  is  it?" 

'  *  Guess  not ! "  w^as  the     '  '^--^  i^      ^  .r^-      "^    Z>^ ' 
reply.  t^^  army  laundry. 

"That's  the  w^ay  it  'pears  ter  me,  'n'  I've  been  kinder 
thinkin'  lately  that  I'd  larn  how.  The  soljers  all  seems  ter 
enjoy  their  smokin'  so  much.  You  know.  Shorty,  that  I 
was  alius  a  reel  good  boj^ — never  smoked,  nor  chaw^cd  ter- 
backer,  nor  cussed,  nor  done  nothin'  that  was  out  o'  the 
straight  an'  narrer  way.  When  I  jined  the  rijiment  my 
good  old  mother  says  to  me:  'Now,  Si,'  says  she,  'I  do 
hopeye'll  'member  what  I've  always  taught  ye.    I've  heern 


280  THE  USUAL  REvSULT. 

'em  tell  that  they  does  drefful  things  in  the  army,  and  I  want 
ye  to  see  if  jq  can't  be  as  good  a  boy  as  yeVe  been  at 
home.'  Of  course  I  told  her  I  would,  'n'  I  mean  ter  stick 
to  it;  but  I  don't  b'lieve  she'd  keer  'f  1  sh'd  smoke.  Is 
it  hard  ter  learn  ?  " 

''Wall,  I  d'know;  ye  can't  most  always  tell  till  ye  try. 
Take  a  whiif,  and  see  how  she  goes.  I  reck'n  ef  ye  go 
throug-h  the  war  'n'  don't larnnuthinwuss'nsmokin',  ve'U 
do  purty  well."  And  Shorty  handed  him  his  pipe,  which 
he  had  just  refilled  with  whittlings  of  black  plug. 

''I  b'lieve  I'll  jest  try  it,"  said  Si.  ''I  s'pose  I  kin  quit 
easy  'nough,  'f  I  want  ter,  when  I  go  home." 

He  took  the  pipe  and  began  to  puff  with  great  energy. 
He  made  a  few  wry  faces  at  first,  but  Shorty  told  him  to 
stick  to  it,  and  he  bravely  pulled  away,  while  the  clotids  of 
smoke  curled  above  him.  Soon  the  color  left  his  face,  his 
head  was  in  a  whirl,  and  his  stomach  began  to  manifest 
eruptive  symptoms. 

''Shorty,"  he  gasped,  "I'm  awful  sick.  If  smokin' makes 
a  feller  feel  like  this,  I  don't  want  any  more  of  it  in  mine." 

"Whar's  all  yer  sand  ye  brag  so  much  'bout?"  said 
Short}^  laughing.  "  Ye're  mighty  poor  timber  for  a  soljer 
if  ye  can't  stan'  a  little  pipe  o'  terbacker  like  that.  Ye'll 
get  over  it  purt}'  soon,  and  it  won't  bother  ye  any  next 
time  ye  try  it." 

Si  found  that  he  had  about  as  much  as  he  could  manage 
with  his  dizzy  head  and  the  internal  rebellion  that  was  so 
actively  going  on.  He  rolled  and  writhed  about  in  a  state 
of  abject  misery. 

Suddenly  there  came  from  the  camp  a  sound  that  brought 
Shorty  to  his  feet. 

"Hello,  Si,"  he  shouted,  "don't  ye  hear  the  drums  rat- 
tlin'  'n'  the  bugles  tootin'  ?  Ther's  suthin  upfer  sure.  Git 
up,  pard,  we'll  have  ter  skin  out  o'  here  right  quick!" 

From  far  and  near  the  alarm  came  to  their  ears,  and  on 


A  WILD  RUSH  FOR  CAMP. 


281 


every  hand  were  seen  half-dressed  officers  and  men  running 
toward  their  respective  regiments. 

Shorty  seized  the  kettle  in  which  the  shirts  were  being 
boiled,  turned  out  the  water,  and  dashed  toward  camp. 
Si  followed  as  fast  as  he  was  able,  though  his  head  seemed 
to  spin  like  a  top.  The  exercise  made  him  feel  bet- 
ter, and  by  the  time  he  reached  the  regiment  he  had  nearly 
recovered.  Officers  were  shouting  ''Fall  in!"  and  orderlies 
were  tearing  around  in  frantic  zeal  urging  the  men  to  ' '  be 
lively." 


A  SCAMPER  IN  DISHABILLE. 


There  was  no  time  to  ask  or  answer  the  questions  that 
were  in  everybody's  mouth  in  regard  to  the  cause  of  the 
sudden  alarm. 

''What'll  we  do  'bout  our  shirts?"  asked  Si  of  his  com- 
rade. ''How  's  a  feller  goin'  ter  march  'n  this  kind  of  a 
£x?" 

"We'll  have  ter  tote  'em  'long  t'll  we  git  a  chance  ter 
cool  'em  off  'n'  put  'em  on,"  replied  Shorty.  "Git  into  yer 
blouse  'n'  sling  on  yer  traps,  quick  's  ever  ye  kin!" 


282  THE  DELUSION  OF 

Just  before  stepping  into  ranks  Si  and  Shorty  fished  their 
steaming  and  dripping  shirts  out  of  the  kettle  and  hung 
them  on  their  bayonets.  They  cut  a  grotesque  figure,  and 
w-ere  the  target  of  many  a  jest  from  those  of  their  com- 
rades who  had  not  been  similarly  caught.  At  the  first 
halt  they  managed  to  put  on  their  shirts,  and  resumed  the 
march  in  a  most  uncomfortable  condition.  They  had  rea- 
son to  repent  their  attempt  to  check  the  ravages  of  the 
pediculi. 

A  small  detail  from  each  company  was  ordered  to  re- 
main to  strike  the  tents,  load  the  wagons,  and  serve  as  a 
guard  for  the  train.  The  hastily  formed  column  filed  out 
upon  the  road  and  started  off  at  a  plunging  gait. 

''Is  this  what  they  calls  havin'  'n  easy  da^^  thrashin*^ 
'round  on  battalion  drill,  'n'  then  marchin'  off  't  a  hoss- 
trot?"  said  Si,  struggling  and  puffing  in  his  efforts  to  keep 
his  place  in  the  ranks.  "They  said  we  was  goin'  ter  stay 
awhile  'n  that  camp  'n'  git  rested  up.     Looks  like  it,  don't 

it?" 

"The  best  way  fer  yo^  ter  do,"  replied  Shorty,  "is  jest  ter 
b'lieve  nothin'  't  anybody  tells  ye  'n  the  army.  'Tain't 
half  the  time  't  the  ossifers  knows  theirselves,  'n'ef  they  do 
like  as  not  they'll  tell  jQ  t'other  way.  Soljerin'  's  queer 
kind  o'  business!" 

This  was  not  the  last  time  that  the  men  of  the  200th 
Indiana,  after  fixing  up  a  nice  camp  under  the  delusive  be- 
lief that  they  were  going  to  "take  it  easy  "  for  a  few  days 
or  weeks,  had  their  work  for  nothing.  Sometimes  in  mid- 
summer they  put  up  awnings  of  boughs  over  their  tents 
to  temper  the  sun's  fierce  heat ;  or  in  winter  they  built  fire- 
places and  chimneys  of  brick  or  stones  or  sticks  and  clay, 
which  added  greatly  to  the  comfort  of  their  frail  tenements. 
"Marching  orders"  were  usually  delayed  until  just  as  these 
improvements  were  finished,  but  if,  within  twenty-four 
hours  after  this,  the  regiment  did  not  "pull  out  ".it  was  an 
exception  to  the  rule.   An  order  for  the  men  to  put  the  camp 


A  DUSTY  TRAMP.  283 

in  good  shape  and  make  themselves  comfortable,  came  to 
be  considered  as  the  equivalent  of  an  order  to  move— if  it 
was  only  over  to  the  next  field,  where  all  the  work  had  to 
be  done  over  again. 

The  rushing  column  swept  on  with  undiminished  speed, 
halting  a  few  minutes  at  long  intervals  for  the  panting 
soldiers  to  get  their  breath.  The  shuffling  of  many  feet  on 
the  dry  limestone  road  filled  the  air  with  a  thick  cloud  of 
dust  that  enveloped  the  men,  covering  their  garments,  en- 
tering their  eyes,  mouths  and  noses,  and  clinging  to  their 
sweating  faces.  A  soldier  could  not  recognize  the  muddy 
countenance  of  his  nearest  comrade.  Knapsacks  and  car- 
tridge boxes  grew  heavy,  and  the  straps  and  belts  ground 
the  dust  into  the  smarting  flesh. 

At  sundown  there  was  a  halt  of  half  an  hour.  The  men 
were  directed  to  make  coffee  and  brace  themselves  for  an 
all-night  march.  They  washed  the  dirt  from  their  hands 
and  faces,  lighted  fires,  and  hurriedly  prepared  their  even- 
ing meal.  Wild  rumors  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth  that 
they  would  charge  upon  a  large  bod}^  of  the  enemy  at  day- 
light, and  the  rising  sun  would  no  doubt  look  upon  a 
bloody  scene  of  carnage.  These  were  the  more  readily  be- 
lieved from  the  fact  that  such  a  furious  march  was  con- 
sidered prima  facie  evidence  that  something  extraordinary 
was  about  to  happen,  and  it  was  more  likely  to  be  a  fight 
than  an3rthing  else. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  the  column  was  again  formed. 
Backs  and  shoulders  and  legs  were  already  aching,  and 
hearts  sank  at  the  prospect  of  the  long,  weary  night's 
tramp ;  but  nerved  by  the  thought  of  a  battle  the  men 
of  the  200th  stepped  firmly  and  briskly,  bent  on  keep- 
ing up  with  the  veterans  who  were  stretching  ahead  of 
them,  and  out  of  the  way  of  those  who  were  close  upon 
their  heels.  Again  the  cloud  of  dust  enveloped  them,  hang- 
ing heavily  in  the  damp  night  air,  through  which  they 


284  AN  ALL-NIGHT  MARCH. 

groped  their  way.     Covered  with  a  mantle  of  white  they 
looked  like  a  procession  of  ghosts  as  they  plodded  on. 

Nine  o'clock— ten— eleven — midnight,  and  on  they  march, 
with  now  and  then  a  few  minutes  of  rest.  The  officers 
speak  words  of  sympathy  and  encouragement  to  the  toil- 
ing men.  It  is  a  critical  emergency  and  they  must  keep  in 
their  places.  How  the  muscles  twinge  with  pain,  and 
w  hat  torture  to  the  tender  feet  as  they  tread,  hour  after 
hour,  the  hard  pike !  No  laugh  or  jest  is  heard.  Save  an 
occasional  moan  or  cry  extorted  by  keen  suffering,  there 
is  no  sound  but  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  upon  the  flinty 
road  and  the  ceaseless  tramp— tramp— of  the  tottering 
soldiers. 

One — two— three  o'clock,  and  still  '* forward"  is  the 
word.  Exhausted  and  bent  and  racked  with  pain,  the 
burdened  forms  mechanically  drag  themselves  along. 
Overcome  by  fatigue  and  drowsiness  men  fall  asleep  and 
march  in  their  dreams.  They  stumble  one  against  an- 
other and  in  this  rude  way  are  brought  back  to  con- 
sciousness. Sometimes  they  are  awakened  by  rolling  into 
the  ditch  by  the  roadside,  or  coming  in  collision  with  pro- 
truding fence-rails.  * 

During  the  night  there  was  no  opportunity  for  refresh- 
ment except  such  as  could  be  derived  from  the  dry  hard- 
tack, eaten  on  the  march  or  at  the  halts  by  the  wayside. 
Morning  dawi_ed  at  length,  upon  a  struggling  mass  of 
men,  fainting  and  footsore,  exhausted  to  the  verge  of 
human  endurance.  The  column  halted  and  was  formed  in 
order  of  battle.  The  200th  Indiana  appeared  to  be  all 
there,  but  it  was  in  the  poorest  possible  condition  for 
action,  if  there  had  been  any  fight  to  go  into— which  of 
course  there  was  not.  It  was  a  hard  night  for  Si  Klegg, 
but  Shorty  had  helped  him  along  by  carrying  his  gun  now 

*  It  was  a  common  thing,  when  soldiers  went  for  days  and  nights  with- 
out rest,  for  infantrymen  to  sleep  as  they  marched  and  cavalrymen  as 
they  rode  their  horses. 


MAGNIFICENT  STRATEGY.  285 

and  then,  and  daylight  found  him  ^^here,"  ready  to  do 
anything  that  was  asked  of  him.  It  was  more  severely 
tr\ang  than  an^-thing  he  had  been  through  before.  He  did 
not  say  much ;  there  was  nothing  to  be  said,  and  he  had 
not  a  breath  to  spare  for  unnecessary  words. 

For  two  hours  the  soldiers  lay  on  their  arms  while  the 
general  sent  out  some  men  on  horseback  to  reconnoiter. 
He  had  heard  that  several  hundred  rebel  troopers  were  en- 
camped in  that  vicinity,  and  the  brilliant  expedition  was  for 
the  purpose  of  surprising  and  capturing  them.  Part  of 
the  Union  forces  had  been  marched  around  so  as  to  close  in 
on  all  sides  of  the  camp,  and  it  was  scientifically  planned 
that  not  a  man  should  escape  to  tell  the  tale.  But  the  rebels 
were  gone — and  had  been  for  two  days.  They  were  only 
a  squad  of  a  few  dozen  guerrillas,  anyway.  The  200th 
Indiana  and  the  rest  of  the  regiments  were  there  *  ^  holding 
the  sack,"  but  the  game  had  fled. 

Then  the  men  were  told  to  stack  arms,  break  ranks,  and 
get  their  breakfast.  Two  hours  later  they  started  back 
for  the  same  spot  they  left  in  such  mad  haste  the  day 
before.  It  took  them  two  days  to  return  the  thirty  miles 
they  had  traveled.  The  wagons,  which  were  met  slowly 
trailing  along,  were  turned  about  and  followed  in  the  rear. 
When  the  soldiers  reached  their  camp  and  pitched  their 
tents  on  the  old  ground  they  were  physically  ''used  up,'^ 
and  mentally  in  a  state  of  supreme  disgust  over  the  i  nglo- 
rious  result  of  their  impetuous  march.  Si  tried  to  give 
Shorty  his  opinion  of  such  a  ''wild  goose  chase,"  but  for 
once  language  failed  him  and  he  said  it  wasn't  any  use  to 
try.  But  he  had  a  good  many  similar  experiences  before 
the  war  was  over,  and  when  he  became  more  skilled  in  the 
use  of  unparliamentary  language  he  succeeded  better  in  ex- 
pressing his  opinions  concerning  such  strategic  maneuvers.. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Corporal  Klegg  Gets  a  Little  Practice  in  Confiscating,  has  a  Vig- 
orous Colic,  and  Joins  the  Procession  at  Sick-Call. 

FROM  twelve  to  sixteen  miles  was  an  easy  day's 
march.  To  a  person  wholly  unincumbered  this 
would  be  no  more  than  a  pleasant  stroll.  But  when  a 
soldier,  with  the  burden  he  was  obliged  to  carry  even 
when  stripped  of  all  unnecessary  weight,  had  tramped  that 
distance,  he  was  glad  enough  to  ''call  it  a  day."  On  long 
journeys,  when  there  was  no  occasion  for  haste,  the  troops 
were  not  often  pushed  to  greater  speed ;  though  at  critical 
times,  when  the  need  was  urgent,  thirty  and  even  forty 
miles  were  made  within  twenty-four  hours,  but  it  taxed  to 
the  utmost  the  power  of  endurance.  When  not  under  press- 
ure, it  was  customary  to  start  early  in  the  day  and  go  into 
camp  by  two  o'clock.  Occasional  marches  of  this  kind, 
with  changes  of  camp,  were  greatly  conducive  to  health 
and  comfort,  and  were  far  preferable  to  occupying  the 
same  ground  for  months  at  a  time.  The  soldiers  never 
grumbled  at  these  pilgrimages,  unless  they  were  made  in 
bad  weather.  Nor  did  they  complain  of  the  severest 
marching  when  it  was  necessary ;  but  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  wild  cavorting  over  the  country  that,  to  the  untutored 
mind  of  the  rank  and  file,  seemed  wholly  needless.  It  may 
have  been  an  essential  factor  in  bringing  the  final  victory, 
but  the  soldiers  could  not  understand  it  that  way.  It 
sent  many  men  to  the  hospitals,  and  seriously  impaired 
the  tempers  of  those  who  were  able  to  endure  it. 

286 


THE  200TH  BEGINS  TO  SHRINK.  287 

Those  regiments  were  fortunate  which  were  permitted 
by  circumstances  to  pass  gradually  through  the  seasoning 
process  that  made  men  soldiers,  capable  of  enduring  the  ex- 
posure and  hardships  of  active  campaigning.  A  harder  fate 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  200th  Indiana.  While  yet 
*'raw"  in  the  largest  sense,  it  was  forced  to  begin  at  the 
^'butt  end."  Its  ranks  had  thinned  rapidly.  In  every 
town  through  which  the  army  passed,  the  buildings 
w^ere  turned  into  hospitals  and  filled  with  sick  and  crippled 
men  from  the  new  regiments,  who  had  fallen  by  the  way. 
Not  half  of  these  ever  rejoined  their  commands  for  duty. 
Many  regiments  were  thus  as  much  reduced  in  a  few 
weeks  as  others  had  been  in  twice  as  many  months.  The 
200th  had  jogged  along  bravely,  but  had  suffered  its  share 
of  decimation.  Not  less  than  a  third  of  its  men  had  ' '  given 
out,'^  and  were  taking  quinine  and  blue-mass,  and  rubbing 
arnica  on  their  legs  along  the  tortuous  route. 

Corporal  Si  Klegg  and  Shorty  proved  to  be  ''stayers." 
Full  of  life  and  ambition,  they  were  aWays  prompt  for 
duty  and  ready  for  a  fight  or  a  frolic.  No  one  was  more 
quick  than  Si  to  offer  a  suffering  comrade  the  last  drop  of 
fresh  w^ater  in  his  canteen,  or  to  give  him  a  lift  by  carrying 
part  of  his  load  for  an  hour. 

One  day  the  regiment  started  out  for  a  comfortable 
march.  The  coast  was  clear  of  rebels,  and,  there  being  no 
excuse  for  crowding  on  the  steam,  the  boys  were  allowed 
to  take  their  own  gait,  while  the  horses  of  the  officers  and 
the  cavalry  had  a  chance  to  recover  their  wind. 

It  was  a  warm  day,  late  in  October.  The  nights  at  tms 
time  were  keen  and  frosty,  but  the  sun  at  mid-day  still 
showed  much  of  his  summer  vigor.  Perspiration  flowed 
freely  down  the  faces  of  those  wandering  Hoosiers — faces 
that  were  fast  assuming  the  color  of  half-tanned  leather 
under  the  influence  of  sunshine  and  storm. 

Once  an  hour  there  was  the  customary  halt,  when  the 
boys  would  stretch  themselves  by  the  roadside,  hitching 


288  PROCLAMATIONS  AGAINST  FORAGING. 

their  knapsacks  up  under  their  heads.  When  the  allotted 
time  had  expired  the  bugler  blew  the  ''fall  in,"  the  notes 
of  which  during  the  next  two  years  became  so  familiar, to 
their  ears.  All  were  in  good  spirits.  As  they  marched 
the^^  pelted  one  another  with  jests,  and  laughter  rippled 
along  the  column. 

The  only  thing  that  troubled  them  was  the  emaciated 
condition  of  their  haversacks,  with  a  corresponding  state 
of  affairs  in  their  several  stomachs.  The  commissary 
department  was  thoroughly  demoralized.  The  supply 
train  had  failed  to  connect,  and  rations  were  almost  ex- 
hausted. There  was  no  prospect  that  the  aching  void 
w^ould  be  filled,  at  least  in  the  regular  way,  for  two  or 
three  daj^s,  until  thc}^  reached  a  depot  of  supplies. 

At  this  stage  of  the  war  strict  orders  against  foraging 
w^ere  issued  almost  daily.  These  were  often  read  impres- 
sively to  the  men  of  the  200th  Indiana,  who,  in  their  sim- 
plicity, *' took  it  all  in  "  as  military  gospel.  The  effect  was 
somewhat  depressing  upon  the  ardor  \vith  which,  other- 
wise, they  would  have  pursued  the  panting  pig  and  the 
fluttering  fowl,  and  reveled  in  the  orchards  and  potato- 
fields.  A  few  irrepressible  fellows  managed  to  get  a  choice 
meal  now  and  then— just  enough  to  show  that  the  200th 
Indiana  was  not  without  latent  talent,  which  only  needed 
a  little  encouragement  to  become  fruitful  of  results. 

These  sounding  proclamations  against  foraging  were 
received  by  the  veterans  with  less  solemnity.  They  had 
been  heard  so  many  times  that  they  had  lost  their  force. 
By  long  and  successful  practice  these  old  soldiers  had  be- 
come skilled  in  the  many  ingenious  arts  by  which  such 
regulations  w^ere  evaded.  When  rations  w^ere  short  the 
''will"  to  suppl}^  the  deficiency  always  found  a  'Svay,"  if 
there  was  anything  to  be  had ;  or  if  the  appetite  craved  a 
change  from  the  monotonous  regulation  diet,  the  means  to 
do  so  Avere  not  wanting.  Many  a  regimental  and  com- 
pan}^  officer,  w^ho  proclaimed  these  orders  to  his  men,  and 


THE  ORDERS  GREW  STALE.  28^ 

in  words  of  thundering  sound  avowed  his  determination 
to  enforce  them,  was  moved  to  condone  a  flagrant  offense 
by  a  propitiatory  offering  of  a  leg  of  mutton,  a  spare-rib, 
a  chicken  or  a  **  mess  "  of  sweet  potatoes.'  Indeed,  some  of 
the  generals  seemed  to  feel  that  they  had  filled  the  measure- 
of  duty  in  the  issuance  of  orders,  permitting  the  soldiers 
to  put  their  own  interpretation  upon  them.  The  latter 
were  not  slow  to  construe  them  in  the  most  liberal  man- 
ner. The  new  troops  proved  apt  learners.  For  the  first 
few  days,  with  the  orders  ringing  in  their  ears,  they 
marched  along  without  daring  so  much  as  to  pluck  an 
apple.  But  when  they  saw  the  old  soldiers  throttling 
fowls,  bayoneting  fatlings,  and  filling  their  haversacks 
with  the  fruit  of  orchard  and  field,  thej^  naturally  felt  that 
there  ought  to  be  a  more  equitable  adjustment  of  things. 
It  was  not  long  till  they  were  able  to  get  their  full  share 
of  whatever  the  country  afforded. 

During  the  early  stage  of  the  war  the  only  authorized 
foraging  v^as  done  in  an  official  way.  There  were  times 
when  supplies  for  men  and  animals  were  necessary.  Ex- 
peditions were  sent  out  under  the  direction  of  quarter- 
masters, who  gave  receipts  for  all  property  taken  from 
loyal  men,  and  these  were  honored  in  cash  by  the  govern- 
ment. As  the  armies  pushed  their  way  farther  into  the 
rebellious  states  the  restrictions  upon  fence-rails,  straw 
stacks,  and  forage  of  every  kind  fell  into  what  a  modem 
chief  magistrate  of  the  nation  would  call  *' innocuous 
desuetude."  A  year  before  the  war  closed  they  had  prac- 
tically disappeared.  The  enemy  was  assaulted  in  purse  as 
well  as  in  person,  and  if  a  soldier— or  an  officer— saw  any- 
thing that  he  needed  he  ''went  for  it."  If  he  could  not  see 
what  he  wanted  he  hunted  until  he  found  it. 

On  the  day  in  question  a  few  hints  were  thrown  out  to 
the  200th  Indiana  which  resulted  in  a  tacit  understanding 
that,  in  view  of  the  actual  need  of  the  soldiers,  if  they  got 
a  good  chance  to  pick  up  something  the  eyes  of  the  officer? 


290  THE  PUCKERING  PERSIMMON. 

would  be  closed.  In  fact  the  latter  were  as  hungry  as  the 
men,  and  hoped  to  come  in  for  a  ''divide." 

Soon  after  starting  in  the  morning  a  persimmon  tree, 
well  laden  with  fruit,  was  seen  in  a  field  not  far  from  the 
road.  About  fifty  men  started  for  it  on  a  run,  and  in  five 
minutes  it  was  as  bare  as  the  barren  fig  tree. 

The  persimmon  has  some  very  marked  peculiarities.  It 
is  a  toothsome  fruit  when  well  ripened  by  frost,  but  if  eaten 
before  it  has  reached  the  point  of  full  maturity,  the  effect 
upon  one's  interior  is  unique  and  startling.  The  pungent 
juices  take  hold  of  the  mouth  and  pucker  it  up  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  even  speech  for  a  time  impossible.  The 
tongue  seems  as  if  it  were  tied  in  a  knot.  If  the  juice  be 
swallowed  similar  results  follow  all  along  its  course.  But 
the  novice  does  not  often  get  far  enough  for  that. 

The  boys  soon  found  that  the  'simmons,  although  they 
looked  very  tempting,  were  too  green  to  be  eaten  with  any 
degree  of  enjoyment.  So  they  filled  their  pockets  with 
them  to  pucker  up  the  mouths  of  their  comrades.  Shorty 
had  joined  in  the  scramble,  telling  his  comrade  he  would 
bring  him  a  good  supply. 

** Ain't  them  nice?"  he  said  to  Si,  holding  out  three  or 
four  of  the  greenest  ones  he  could  find.  *  *  Eat  Vm ;  they're 
jest  gorjus !    Ye  can't  help  likin'  on  'em !  " 

Si  had  never  before  seen  a  persimmon.  Eagerly  seizing 
them  he  tossed  one  into  his  mouth  and  began  to  chew- 
it  vigorously.  The  persimmon  at  once  took  hold  with  a 
mighty  grip,  wrinkling  him  up  like  the  skins  on  scalded 
milk. 

After  sputtering  furiously  a  few  minutes,  while  Shorty 
laughed  at  him.  Si  managed  to  get  his  tongue  untwisted. 

*'Yes,"  said  he,  ''them  things  is  nice— in  a  horn! 
'Twouldn't  take  many  on  'em  to  make  a  meal !  " 

A  little  farther  along  Si's  quick  eye  noticed  a  row  of  bee- 
hives standing  on  a  bench  in  the  yard  of  one  of  the  natives. 
He  had  a  weakness  for  honey. 


SIS  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE  BEES. 


291 


"Shorty,"  said  he,  ''see  them  hives  over  thar?  How  'd 
ye  Hke  ter  have  some  honey  fer  supper?  '* 

Shorty  ''allowed"  that  it  would  be  a  good  thing.  Si 
•stopped  and  waited  a  few  minutes  until  his  own  regiment 
^ot  past,  thinking  his  plan  w^ould  be  less  liable  to  inter- 
ruption. Then  he  leaped  over  the  fence,  w^ent  up  to  the 
hives,  and  boldly  tipped  one  of  them  over,  hoping  he  could 
get  out  a  comb  or  two,  fill  his  coffee-kettle,  and  effect 
his  retreat  before  the  bees  really  found  out  what  he  was 
doing.    But  the  bees  -c^-^^^^^^i-t— 

instantly  rallied  their  '*^^S^-\^^^^^'^^^  : 

forces    and    made    a  '         ''^^/^-^'^^ f^j:^fv 

vigorous  assault  up- 
on   the    invader.      Si 
saw  that  it  would  be 
too  hot  for  him,  and  -^ 
without  standing  up- 
on the  order  of  his  go- 
ing he  went  at  once, 
in  a  decidedly  panicky  ^'*^" 
condition.     The   bees  ''*:^ 
made  the  most  of  their  ^^-'' 
opportunity,     using  tg^ 
their  "business  ends "  -..^sz^^ " 
on  him  with  great  ac-  C"^  "^^ 
tivity  and  zeal.    They^ 
seemed  to  fully  share 
the  common  feeling  in 
the  South  toward  the  "Yanks." 

A  disheveled  woman,  smoking  a  cob-pipe,  had  watched 
Si's  raid  from  the  door-way,  with  a  stormy  face.  As  he 
fell  back  in  utter  rout  she  screamed,  "Sar\^es  ye  right!" 
and  then  sat  down  on  the  doorstep  and  laughed  till  she 
cried.  She  enjoyed  it  as  much  as  the  bees  did.  The  latter 
took  hold  of  Si  in  various  places,  and  by  the  time  he  caught 
up  with  the  regiment  one  eye  was  closed,  and  there  was  a 


THE  BUSY  BEE. 


292  FORDING  A  STREAM. 

big  lump  on  his  nose,  besides  several  more  stings  whicli  the 
bees  had  judiciously  distributed  about  his  person.  It  was 
very  evident  that  he  had  been  overmatched,  and  had  come 
out  second  best  in  the  encounter.  Corporal  Klegg  pre- 
sented a  picturesque  appearance  as  he  reached  Company- 
Q,  and  the  boys  screamed  with  delight. 

*'Whar's  yer  honey?"  said  Shorty.  '"Pears  like  ye 
Tvaked  up  the  wrong  passenger  that  time !  " 

Si  laughed  with  the  rest,  rubbed  salt  on  his  stings,  and 
plodded  on,  consoling  himself  with  the  thought  that  his 
was  not  the  only  case  in  which  the  merit  of  earnest  effort 
had  gone  unrewarded. 

During  the  march  a  large  stream  was  reached,  the  bridge 
over  which  had  been  burned.  The  water  was  waist  deep. 
If  the  regiment  had  been  moving  rapidly  to  meet  an  emer- 
gency the  men  would  not  have  stopped  for  a  moment. 
Unclasping  their  cartridge-box  belts  the}'  would  have 
plunged  into  the  water  without  removing  a  single  garment, 
carrying  their  muskets  and  ammunition  so  as  to  keep  them 
dry.  But  at  this  time  the  regiment  was  not  under  press- 
ure and  a  halt  was  ordered.  The  colonel  directed  the  men 
to  strip,  and  they  quickly  divested  themselves  of  their 
clothes.  These  and  their  numerous  'Hraps  "  were  bundled 
up  and  hoisted  upon  fixed  bayonets  or  carried  upon  the 
head.  Then  the  bugle  sounded  and  the  fantastic  procession 
entered  the  water.  The  grotesquely  ridiculous  appearance 
of  the  men  provoked  shouts  of  laughter. 

Short  men  were  at  a  disadvantage,  and  Corporal  Klegg 
had  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  resist  the  sweep  of  the  cur- 
rent that  threatened  to  carry  him  off  his  feet,  as  he  care- 
fully felt  his  way  along  the  stony  bottom.  It  was  difficult 
for  one  to  assist  another,  as  each  had  his  hands  fully  occu- 
pied in  the  carriage  of  his  clothing  and  accouterments.' 
When  about  midway  Si's  foot  slipped  on  a  treacherous 
stone  and  he  went  dov/n  with  a  great  splash,  submerging 
himself  and  his  burden,  while  everybody  yelled. 


SIS   CALAMITY. 


293 


Shorty  had  thoughtfully  arranged  his  load  so  as  to 
have  one  hand  free,  and  had  kept  near  Si,  that  he  might  be 
of  service  in  case  of  accident.  He  seized  his  unfortunate 
comrade  just  in  time  to  save  him  from  being  borne  away 
b}^  the  rushing  stream,  and  got  him  upon  his  feet  again. 
Si  came  up  half  strangled  and  spouting  like  a  \vhale.  But 
for  Short}' 's  timely  aid  he  would  have  been  forced  to  jetson 
liis  cargo  and  swim  for  his  life.  Shorty  kept  his  hand  until 
the  bank  was  safely  reached.  Si  had  clung  to  all  his  things, 
but  they  were  well  soaked.     Many  others  of  the  regiment 


THE   200th  INDIANA  TAKES  TO  THE  WATER. 

had  similar  watery  experiences,  and  some  of  them  were  less 
fortunate,  losing  their  guns  and  equipments.  Loss  of  life 
Avhile  crossing  streams  in  this  way  w^as  not  an  uncommon 
occurrence. 

During  the  brief  time  allowed  the  men  to  ''dress  up,"  Si 
wrung  out  his  dripping  garments  and  drew  them  on.  The 
warm  sun  quickly  dried  them,  and  he  w^as  none  the  worse 
for  his  mishap. 

"I  reck'n  they'd  let  me  jine  the  Babtist  church  now,"  he 
^aid  to  Shorty. 

Soon  after  noon  the  regiment  came  to  a  large  patch  of 


294 


IN  A  SWEET   POTATO   PATCH. 


sweet  potatoes.  Si  and  Shorty,  as  well  as  many  of  the 
rest,  thought  it  would  be  a  good  place  to  lay  in  a  supply 
for  supper,  as  they  might  not  have  another  such  chance. 
From  all  parts  of  the  column  the  soldiers,  b^^  dozens,  dashed 
into  the  field.  In  a  moment  there  was  a  man  at  every  hill, 
digging  away  with  his  ba^^onet,  and  chucking  the  tempt- 
ing tubers  into  his  haversack.  The  artist  has  pictured  the 
scene  in  a  manner  that  will  touch  a  responsive  chord  in 
the  memories — not  to  mention  the  stomachs — of  the  vet- 
erans of  the  war. 
T^csTO  hours  before  going  into  camp  the  regiment  passed 

a  small  spring,  around 
which  a  crowd  of  sol- 
diers were  struggling  to 
fill  their  canteens.  There 
had  been  a  long  stretch 
without  fresh  ^vater,  and 
Si  thought  he  would  sup' 
ply  himself. 

*^  Gimme  3'our  canteen, 
too,  Shorty,  and  I'll  fill- 
it,"  he  said,  '^ef  ye'lljest 
carry  my  gun." 

"  Here,  Si,  you're  a 
bully  boy,  take  mine!'^ 

A  PREMATURE  HARVEST.  ^'MiuC,        tOO  !  "         ' '  Aud 

mine!  "  said  one  after  another  of  his  comrades.  Si  good- 
naturedl}'  complied,  and  they  loaded  him  down  with 
a  dozen  canteens. 

''  All  right,"  said  Si,  ''  I'lhbe  'long  with  'em  full  d'reckly !  '* 
He  had  to  wait  for  his  turn  at  the  spring,  and  by  the 
time  he  had  filled  all  the  canteens  he  was  half  an  hour  be- 
hind. Slinging  them  around  his  neck  he  started  on,  with 
just  about  as  big  a  load  as  he  could  carry.  He  forged 
ahead,  gradually  gaining  a  little  by  the  tardy  movement 
of  the  column  that  generally  preceded  going  into  camp. 


LOYE  S  LABOR  LOST. 


295 


The  canteen  straps  chafed  his  shoulders,  his  back  ached, 
and  perspiration  flowed  in  streams.  The  smoke  of  the 
campfires  ahead  told  that  the  end  of  the  day's  march  was 
near.  He  kept  on  and  finally  came  up  with  Company  Q 
just  as  the  200th  was  stacking  arms  on  the  bank  of  a 
clear  stream.  He  threw  down  his  burden  of  canteens, 
well-nigh  exhausted. 

'^Purty  good  load,  wa'n't  it,  Si?"  said  Shorty.  ''But 
what  made  ye  lug  all  that  water  in  here  ?  When  ye  seen 
they  was  goin'  into  camp  ahead  ye  might  ha' knowed  there 
was  plenty  o'  water.  Why  in  blazes  didn't  ye  turn  the 
water  out  o'  them  'ere 
canteens?" 

''I  never  thought  o' 
that,"  said  Si,  while 
the  boys  joined  in  a 
hearty  laugh.  j^^ 

At  the  command 
"Break  ranks"  there 
was  a  general  scamper 
to  engage  in  the  work' 
of  getting  supper  and 
preparing  to  spend  the 
night.  The  members 
of  each  mess  scattered 
in  all  directions,  some 
for  water,  rails  and  straw,  while  others  scoured  the  ad- 
jacent region  for  edibles.  The  utmost  activity  character- 
ized these  operations.  It  was  "every  one  for iiiimself, " 
and  he  who  stirred  around  with  the  greatest  zeal  was 
likely  to  fare  best. 

Si  threw  off  his  traps  and  dropped  on  the  ground  to  rest 
a  few  minutes,  but  got  up  presently  to  scratch  around 
with  the  rest.  As  he  took  hold  of  his  haversack  he  was 
surprised  at  its  lightness.    When  he  laid  it  down  it  was 


BULLY  boy's"  burden. 


296  HOW  SI  "got  eyex." 

btilgitig  out  with  sweet  potatoes,  and  a  glance  showed  liiin 
that  these  were  all  gone. 

"  Diirn  my  buttons !"  exclaimed  Si,  as  he  forgot  his  wear- 
iness, and  his  e^^es  flashed  fire.  ''Ef  I  am  a  corporil,  I  kin 
jest  mash  the  feller  't  stole  my  'taters,  I  don't  keer  if  he's 
ten  foot  high.  Won't  somebody  show  'im  to  me  ?  Thar 
won't  be  'nuff  of  'im  left  to  hold  a  fun  ral  over!'' 

Si  pranced  around  in  a  high  state  of  indignation,  and 
there  is  Httle  doubt  that  if  he  had  found  the  purloiner  of 
his  provender  there  would  have  been  a  harder  fight,  in 
proportion  to  the  forces  engaged,  than  an^-  that  had  yet 
occurred  during  the  war. 

The  boys  winked  sWy  at  one  another,  and  all  said  it  was 
too  bad.  It  was  a  startling  case  of  turpitude,  and  Si  de- 
termined to  have  revenge  by  getting  even  on  some  other 
fellow,  without  pausing  to  consider  questions  which  apper- 
tain more  to  theolog}^  than  to  war. 

"Come  'long  wath  me,  Short^^!"  he  said  to  his  friend,  and 
thev  strode  awa^^  Just  outside  the  camp  they  came  upon 
two  members  of  some  other  new  regiment  coming  into, 
camp,  wath  a  fine  pig  slung  over  a  pole  and  two  or  three 
chickens  in  their  hands.  Shorty  suggested  to  Si  that  this 
was  a  good  chance  for  him  to  even  up. 

''Halt  there!"  shouted  Si  to  the  foragers.  ''We're  sent 
out  ter  pick  up  jest  sich  fellers  's  you!" 

The  effect  was  like  a  shot  from  a  cannon.  The  men 
dropped  their  plunder  and  fled  in  wild  confusion. 

"  Take  hold  o'  that  pole,  Shorty !"  said  Si,  and  laying  it 
upon  their*  shoulders  they  made  a  triumphant  entry  into 
camp. 

There  seemed  to  be  no  danger  of  immediate  starvation 
in  the  ranks  of  the  200th.  Each  man  had  supplied  himself 
abundantly.  Fires  gleamed  brightly  in  the  gathering  twi- 
light, and  around  them  crowded  the  hungry  soldiers  in- 
tent upon  making  ready  the  feast. 

Up  to  this  time  the  doctors  of  the  200th  Indiana  had 


THE  REGIMENTAL  DOCTORS. 


297 


found  little  to  do,  aside  from  issuing  salve  and  arnica  to 
assuage  the  pain  of  blisters  and  lame  legs  and  shoulders. 
The  men  had  started  out  in  good  physical  condition,  and 
there  had  been  scarcely  time  for  disease  to  make  serious 
ravages  among  them. 

Si  Klegg  was  a  good  specimen  of  a  robust  Hoosier  lad — 
for  he  could  scarcely  be  called  a  man  ^^et.  Since  he  lay 
in  his  cradle  and  was  dosed  with  paregoric  and  catnip  tea 
like  other  babies,  he  had  never  seen  a  sick  day.  He  had 
done  all  he  could  to  starve  the  doctors. 


LAYING  IN  SUPPLIES. 

When  the  regiment  took  the  field  it  had  the  usual  outfit 
of  men  who  wrote  their  names  sandwiched  between  a  mil- 
itary title  in  front  and  '' M.  D."  behind.  It  had  a  big  hos- 
pital tent,  and  an  apothecary  shop  on  wheels,  loaded  to 
the  guards  with  quinine,  blue-mass,  castor  oil,  epsom  salts 
— everything  in  fact  that  was  known  to  medical  science  as 
a  cure  for  the  ills  to  which  flesh  is  heir.  As  3^et  the  doctors 
had  not  done  much  but  hold  a  continual  dress-parade  in 
their  shiny  uniforms. 

The  next  day  the  march  was  continued.  On  going  into 
icamp  the  200th,  being  well  in  the  advance,  struck  a  field 


298 


A  FEAST  AND  WHAT  FOLLOWED. 


of  late  com  with  a  good  crop  of  ears  jtist  at  the  right 
stage  for  roasting  or  boiling.  Adjoining  this  was  an 
apple  orchard  loaded  with  fruit.  The  boys  quickly  laid  in 
an  enormous  supply,  lighted  fires,  and  an  hour  later  were 
enjoying  a  royal  feast. 

"Now  this  is  suthin  like !''  said  Si,  as  he  squatted  on  the 
ground  along  with  Shorty  and  half  a  dozen  messmates. 
They  surrounded  a  camp-kettle  full  of  steaming  ears,  and 
half  a  bushel  or  so  of  apples  heaped  on  a  poncho. 

"Wish  we  had  some  o'  mother's  butter  to  grease  this 

corn  with,"  observed 
Si,  as  he  flung  a  cob 
into  the  fire  and  seized 
a  fresh  ear. 

All  agreed  that  Si's 
head  was  level  on  the 
butter  question,  but 
under  all  the  circum- 
stances they  were  glad 
enough  to  have  the 
corn  without  butter. 
The  ears  went  off  with 

^^  — 'Hmifflw«/ ^ . '  '^mazing    rapidity. 

■-^^-^j[^  ~^^^      '"^^C^ .         Every  man  seemed    to 

A  RED-LETTER  DAY.  bc  afraid    he  wouldn't 

get  his  share.  When  the  kettle  was  empty  the  boys 
turned  themselves  loose  on  the  apples,  utterly  reckless 
of  results.  When  Si  got  up  he  burst  half  the  button? 
off  his  clothes.  It  was  not  long  till  he  began  to  wish 
he  had  eaten  an  ear  of  corn  and  an  apple  or  two  less.  He 
didn't  feel  very  well.  He  turned  in  early,  thinking  he 
would  go  to  sleep  and  be  all  right  in  the  morning. 

Along  in  the  night  he  uttered  a  yell  that  came  near 
stampeding  the  company.  An  enormous  colic  was  raging 
in  his  interior,  and  he  fairly  howled  with  pain.  He 
thought  he  was  going  to  die  immediately. 


A  MIDNIGHT  YELL. 


299 


'  "Shorty,'^  he  said,  between  the  gripes,  to  his  comrade, 
**I'm  afeard  I'm  goin'  up  the  spout.  Arter  I'm  gone  you 
write  to — to — Annie,  and  tell  her  I  died  fer  my  country, 
like  a  man.  I'd  ruther  been  shot  than  die  with  the  colic, 
but  I  s'pose  'twon't  make  much  diff 'runce  arter  it's  all 
over!" 

''I'll  do  it,"  replied  Shorty.  ''We'll  plant  ye  'n  good 
shape ;  and.  Si,  we'll  gather  up  the  corn-cobs  and  build  a 
moniment  over  ye!" 

But  Si  wasn't  cut  off  in  the  bloom  of  youth  by  that  colic. 
His  eruptive  condition 
frightened  Shorty 
however,  and,  though 
he  was  in  nearly  as 
bad  shape  himself,  he 
went  up  and  routed 
out  one  of  the  doctors, 
w^ho  growled  a  good 
deal,  about  being  dis- 
turbed. The  debris  of 
the  supper  scattered '^^  -^ 
about   the   camp  told  '^J^,„, 


the  doctor  what  was 
the  matter,  and  he  had 
no  need  to  make  a  criti- 
cal   diagnosis    of    Si's 


A   CLEAR   CASE   OF  COLIC. 


case.  He  administered  a  dose  of  something  that  eased 
the  pain  a  little,  and  Si  manned  to  rub  along  through 
the  night. 

Fortunately  for  Si,  and  for  more  than  half  the  members^ 
of  the  regiment,  the  army  did  not  start  early  the  following 
day.  At  the  usual  hour  in  the  morning  the  bugler  blew 
the  ''sick-call.''  A  regiment  of  grizzly  veterans  lay  next 
to  the  200th  Indiana,  and  as  Si  lay  groaning  in  his  tent 
he  heard  them  sing  the  words  that  became  so  familiar  to 
him  afterward. 


300 


GIT  YER  quinine!" 


*'Fall  in  fer  yer  ipecac!"  shouted  the  orderly, 
the  cadaverous  pro- 
cession and  went 
wabbHng  up  to  the 
**  doctor's  "  shop 
with  a  discouraged 
air. 

It  was  a  regular 
matinee  that  day. 
The  surgeon  and  his 
assistants  were  all 


Si  joined 


Gil 

;  yer  qui    - 

nine  I    Git  yer  qui  -  nine! 

N        1 

,.      ^ 

-  -  1        m 

-  rs  ■•              rs    -, 

-  J        *        * 

S~  ^~ 

■  J         h      J 

S    J 

\-t ^-^Jl- 

• 9 

Tum-ble  up  you  sick, 

-r N ^ 


and      lame     and  blind; 


^^- 


-- N — N- 
-^S— X- 


a 


Git  a  -  long  right  smart,  you'll  be  left    be  -  hind. 
"sick-call." 

on  hand,  as  the  colicky  squads  came  to  a  focus  m  front  of 

the  tent.  The  doctors 
worked  off  the  patients 
at  a  rapid  rate,  gen- 
erally prescribing  the 
same  medicine  for  all, 
no  matter  what  ailed 
them.  This  was  the 
I  way  the  army  doctors 
always  did,  but  it  hap- 
pened in  this  case  that 
they  were  not  far 
[wrong,  as  the  ail- 
^  ments,  arising  from  a 
common  cause,  were 
much  the  same.  When 
Si's  turn  came  he  re- 
ceived a  liberal  ration 
SI  INTERVIEWS  THE  DOCTOR.  of  medicinc  from   the 

hospital  steward,  and  the  doctor  ga^re  him  a  "pass "to 

ride  that  day  in  an  ambulance. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  Army  has  a  Spasm   of  Morality  and   Rests  on  Sunday— It 
Proves  a  Cold  Day  for  Shorty. 

DURING  the  very  few  days  that  the  200th  Indiana  lay 
in  camp  before  entering  upon  the  campaign,  nothing 
was  thought  of  except  getting  the  regiment  into  condition 
for  immediate  service.  There  was  no  opportunity  to  learn 
the  customary  details  of  camp  life.  Then  it  spent  three  or 
four  weeks  cantering  over  the  country,  trying  without 
success  to  find  a  battle  to  get  into.  Now  that  the  chase 
after  the  fleet-footed  rebels  had  been  abandoned,  attention 
was  given  to  the  prescribed  daily  routine  of  duty.  The 
wagons  that  were  left  behind  when  the  army  moved  had 
rejoined  the  regiment,  and  the  men  once  more  had  tents  ta 
sleep  in. 

The  campaign  had  been  a  disappointment  to  Si  Klegg. 
When  the  troops  entered  upon  it,  in  such  imposing  array, 
he  fully  expected  that  the  opposing  rebel  army  would  be 
exterminated.  One  insignificant  brush  with  the  enemy 
was  the  nearest  approach  to  a  battle  that  he  had  seen. 
His  impatience  knew  no  bounds  v^hen,  at  the  sound  of  half 
a  dozen  shots  on  the  skirmish-line,  the  whole  army  halted, 
performed  grand  maneuvers,  formed  line  of  battle,  threw 
up  intrenchments  and  solemnly  'waited  to  be  attacked  by 
the  enemy,  who  was  all  the  time  trying  so  hard  to  get 
away. 

**I'd  jest  like  ter  show  'em  how  ter  run  a  war,"  he  said 
to  Shorty.     ''I  wouldn't  have  so  much  tomfoolery  goin' 

301 


302  ''retreat"  and 

on.  We  walks  our  legs  off  tryin'  ter  find  the  Johnnies  so  's 
we  kin  thrash  'em,  'n'  's  soon  's  we  cotches  'em  we  don't 
do  nothin'  but  stan'  'n'  make  faces  at  'em,  's  ef  we  was  a 
lot  o'  boys.  Now  they've  got  away  fergood  'n'  ther'  ain't 
nobody  hurt  on  ary  side.  Wish  't  they'd  make  me  a  gin- 
'ral.  Mebbe  I  wouldn't  whip  the  rebels  but  I'd  tty  my 
level  best.    Ther'  'd  be  a  fight,  anyway." 

After  a  while  the  ''gin'rals"  fell  into  Si's  way  of  think- 
ing. Thencame  fierce  fighting,  and  at  last  the  end.  Si  was 
glad  when  he  heard  that  a  new  commander  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  lead  that  army.  He  did  not  have  to  wait  much 
longer  to  know  what  it  was  to  go  through  a  great  battle. 

**  Fall  in,  Company  Q,  for  retreat ! "  shouted  the  orderly 
one  Saturday  evening,  as  the  drums  rattled  at  sunset. 

"What  we  goin'  to  retreat  fer,  Shorty?  "  asked  Si,  with 
alarm.  ''The  rebils  hain't  whipped  us,  have  they?  I'm 
mighty  sartin  't  I  ain't  licked  yet.  The  folks  to  home  '11 
think  we're  all  a  pack  o' cowards  ef  we  go  ter  runnin'back 
'thouthavin'  a  fight." 

"It  don't  mean  that,  Si,"  replied  his  comrade.  "When 
ye  hear  the  bugles  blowin'  'n'  the  drums  beatin'  fer  roll-call 
at  sundown,  that 's  what  they  calls  'retreat.'  " 

"I  can't  see  no  sense  'n  givin'  't  that  name,"  said  Si. 
"I  alius  thought  retreat  meant  runnin'  the  wrong  way. 
'Pears  like  words  don't  have  the  same  meanin'  'n  the  army 
't  they  does  up  'n  Injianny." 

Si  had  new  cause  for  wonder  two  or  three  hours  later 
when  another  call  v^as  sounded  and  the  company  was 
ordered  to  fall  in  for  "tattoo."*  In  his  eagerness  for  in- 
formation he  asked  Shorty  if  they  had  all  got  to  be  tattooed 
like  the  cannibals  he  had  seen  pictures  of,  and  if  so  what 
it  was  for.  Shorty  told  him  that  "tattoo  "  was  the  name 
given  by  the  army  regulations  to  the  call  for  everybody  to 
go  to  bed. 

"I  hope  I'll  git  all  these  curus  things  larned  arter  a 
while,"  said  Si. 


KEEPING  TRACK  OF  SUNDAY.  303 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  army  did  get  pretty  thoroughly 
''tattooed  "  during  the  war.  Every  regiment  had  its  tat- 
tooers,  with  outfits  of  needles  and  India-ink,  who  for  a 
consideration  decorated  the  limbs  and  bodies  of  their  com- 
rades with  flags,  muskets,  cannons,  sabers,  and  an  infinite 
variety  of  patriotic  emblems  and  warlike  and  grotesque 
devices.  Some  of  these  men  were  highly  artistic  and  did 
their  work  in  a  manner  that  would  have  been  creditable 
to  a  South  Sea  Islander.  Thousands  of  the  soldiers  had 
name,  regiment  and  residence  ** pricked"  into  their  arms 
or  legs.  In  portions  of  the  army  this  was  recommended 
in  general  orders^  to  afford  means  of  identification  if  killed 
in  battle.  It  was  like  writing  one's  own  epitaph,  but  the 
<:ustom  prevented  many  bodies  from  being  buried  in  "un- 
known" graves. 

** Tomorrow  's  Sunday,  ye  know!"  said  the  orderly  at 
"retreat." 

This  was  in  the  nature  of  news  to  the  boys.  But  for  the 
announcement  very  few  of  them  would  have  known  it. 
The  orderly  \sras  not  distinguished  for  his  piety,  and  it  is 
not  likely  that  the  approach  of  Sunday  would  have  oc- 
curred to  him  if  the  sergeant-major  had  not  come  around 
with  orders  from  the  colonel  for  a  proper  observance  of 
the  day.  The  colonel  himself  v^ould  not  have  thought  of 
it,  either,  if  the  chaplain  had  not  reminded  him  of  it. 
Everybody  wondered  how  even  the  chaplain  could  keep 
track  of  the  days  well  enough  to  know  when  Sunday 
came.  It  was  the  general  impression  that  he  either  carried 
an  almanac  in  his  pocket,  or  else  a  stick  in  v^hich  he  cut  a 
notch  every  day  with  his  jack-knife,  and  in  that  way  man- 
aged to  know  w^hen  a  new  week  began. 

The  200th  Indiana  had  been  kept  particularly  active  on 
Sundays.  Probably  this  regiment  did  not  manifest  any 
more  than  the  average  degree  of  enthusiasm  and  fervor  in 
religious  matters,  but  there  were  many  in  its  ranks  who, 
at  home,  had  always  sat  under  gospel  ministrations,  and 


304  SI  TALKS  SHORTY  TO  SLEEP. 

to  tramp  on  Sundays,  the  same  as  other  days,  was,  at 
first,  a  rude  shock  to  their  moral  sensibiHties.  These  were 
yet  keen;  the  edges  had  not  been  worn  off  and  blunted 
and  battered  by  the  hard  knocks  of  army  life.  True,  they 
could  scarcely  tell  when  Sunday  came,  but  they  knew  that 
they  kept  marching  right  along  every  day. 

"There'll  be  guard-mountin'  at  9  o'clock,"  continued 
the  orderly,  ''regimental  inspection  at  10,  preachin'  at  11, 
an'  dress-parade  at  5  in  the  evenin'.  All  of  ye  wants  to 
tumble  out  right  promp'ly  at  revellee  an'  git  yer  break- 
fast, an'  then  clean  up  yer  guns  an'  put  all  yer  traps  in 
apple-pie  order,  'cause  the  colonel's  goin'  to  look  at  'em. 
He's  got  sharp  e^^es,  an'  I  reck'n  he'll  be  mighty  pertickler. 
If  there's  an^^thingthat  ain't  jest  right  hellsee  it  quicker 'n 
lightnin'.  Ye  know  we  hain't  had  any  inspections  yet,  an' 
the  cap'n  wants  us  to  be  the  boss  company.  So  ye've  got 
to  scratch  around  lively  in  the  mornin'." 

''Shorty,"  said  Si,  after  they  had  gone  to  bed,  "seems 
like  it'll  be  sort  o'  nice  ter  keep  Sunday  ag'in.  At  the  rate 
we've  bin  goin*  on  we'll  all  be  heathens  by  the  time  we  git 
home — if  we  ever  do.  Our  chaplain  hain't  had  no  chance 
ter  preachify  yet  The  boys  w'at  knows  him,  says  he's  a 
staver,  'n'  I  b'lieve  it'll  make  us  all  feel  better  ter  have  him 
talk  to  us  once.  'Twon't  do  us  no  harm,  nohow.  I'd  like 
ter  be  home  termorrer  'n'  go  to  church  with  mother,  'n* 
sister  Marier,  'n'  the  rest  o*  the  folks.  Then  I'd  jest  eat 
all  the  artemoon.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  git  homesick,  Shorty; 
but  a  feller  can't  help  feelin'  a  leetle  streaked  once  'n  a 
while.  Mebbe  it 's  a  good  idee  fer  'em  to  keep  us  on  the 
jump,  fer  then  we  don't  git  no  chance  to  think  'bout  it.  I 
don't  s'pose  I'm  the  only  boy  'n  the  rijiment  that  'd  be 
glad  ter  git  a  furlough  jest  fer  termorrer.  I  sh'd  want  ter 
be  back  bright  'n'  arly  ter  fall  in  Monday  mornin',  fer  I  cal- 
kilate  ter  stick  ter  the  200th  Injianny  through  thick  *n' 
thin.    Say,  Shorty,  how  d'ye  feel,  anyway?" 


THE  MORNING  ROLL-CALL. 


30b 


But  Shorty  was  already  fast  asleep.    Si  spooned  up  to 
him  and  was  soon  at  home  in  his  dreams. 

The  sound  of  bugle  and  drum,  at  daylight,  fell  upon  un- 
willing ears,  for  the  soldiers  felt  the  same  indisposition  to 
get  up  early  Sunday  •morning  that  is  everywhere  one  of 
the  characteristics  of  modern  civilization.  Their  beds  were 
hard,  but  to  their  weary  limbs  no  couch  ever  gave  more 
welcome  rest  than  did  the  rough  ground  on  which  they 
lay.  But  the  wild  yell  of  the  orderly,  ''Turn  out  for  roll- 
call!"  with  the  thought  of  the  penalties  for  non-obedience 
— w^hich  some  of  them 
had  abundant  reason 
to  remember  —  quickly 
brought  out  the  lag-, 
gards. 

Si  and  Shorty  were,  as 
usual,  among  the  first 
to  take  their  places  in 
line.  They  were  pleas- 
antly greeted  by  the 
captain,  who  had  come 
out  on  the  run  at  the 
last  moment,  and  wrig- 
gled himself  into  his 
coat  as  he  strode  along 
the  company  street. 
The  captain  did  not' 
very  often  appear  at  '"'^^  captain  at  early  roll-call. 
morning  roll-call.  Only  one  officer  of  the  company 
was  required  to  be  present,  and  the  captain  generally 
loaded  this  duty  upon  the  lieutenants,  ''turn  about."  If 
he  did  show  up,  he  would  go  back  to  bed  and  snooze  for 
an  hour  while  the  cook  was  getting  breakfast.  If  one  of 
the  men  did  that,  he  would  soon  be  promenading  with  a 
rail  on  his  shoulder  or  standing  on  a  barrel  with  a  stick  or 
a  bayonet  tied  in  his  mouth. 


306 


MOUNTING       THE  GUARD. 


'*I  think  that's  a  fust  rate  notion  ter  mount  the  guards,'^ 
said  Si  to  Shorty,  as  they  sat  on  a  rail  by  the  fire  making 
coffee  and  frying  bacon.  ''It'll  be  so  much  better  'n  walkin' 
back  'n'  forrard  on  the  beats.  Wonder  'f  theyll  give  us 
hosses  or  mules' to  ride." 

*'I'dlike  ter  know  what  put  that  idee  into  yer  head?*' 
said  Shorty. 

''  Why,  didn't  the  ord'ly  say  las'  night  't  there  'd  be 
guard- mountin'  at  9  o'clock  this  mornin'?  I  s'posed 
that  fer  a  man  ter  be  mounted  meant  straddlin'  a  hoss 

or  s 'mother  kind  of  an 
animil." 

'^Ain^t  3^e  never  goin* 
to  lam  nuthin',"  said 
Shorty,  with  a  laugh. 
"  Guard-mountin'  don't 
mean  fer  the  men  ter  git 
on  hosses.  It's  only  the 
name  they  gives  it  in 
thereggelations.  Dunno 


^^  why  they  calls  it  that, 
*nless  it's  'cause  the 
guards  has  ter  'mount' 
anybody  that  tries  ter 
pass  'thout  the  counter- 
sign. But  don't  ye  fool 
yer  self  with  thinkin' 
THE  GUARD  IS  FORMED."  yc'rc    goiu'  tcr    git    to 

ride.    We'll  keep  pluggin'  along  afoot,  on  guard  er  any- 
where else,  same  's  we  have  all  the  time." 

"I  sh'd  think  they  might  mount  the  corporils,  anyway," 
said  Si. 

Thus  rudely  was  shattered  another  of  his  bright  illu- 
sions. 

The  whole  regiment  turned  our  to  witness  the  ceremony 
of  guard-mounting.    It  was  the  first  time  the  exigencies  of 


PREPARING   FOR  INSPECTION.  307 

the  campaign  had  permitted  the  200th  Indiana  to  do  this 
in  style.  The  adjutant  was  the  most  important  personage, 
and  he  stood  so  straight  that  he  narrowly  escaped  falling 
over  backward.  In  order  that  he  might  not  make  a  mess 
of  it,  he  had  spent  half  the  night  rehearsing  the  various 
commands  in  his  tent.  Thus  prepared,  he  managed  to  get 
through  his  part  quite  comfortably,  though  the  non-com- 
missioned officers  and  privates  made  awkward  work  of  it. 

The  next  thing  on  the  program  for  the  day  was  the  in- 
spection. The  boys  had  been  industriously  engaged  in 
cleaning  up  their  muskets  and  accouterments,  and  putting 
their  scanty  w^ardrobes  in  presentable  condition.  In  ar- 
ranging his  knapsack  for  the  colonel's  eye,  each  man  care- 
fully laid  a  clean  shirt,  if  he  had  one,  on  the  top.  The 
garments  that  were  not  clean  he  either  stowed  away  in 
the  tent  or  put  at  the  bottom  of  the  knapsack.  In  this  he 
was  actuated  by  the  same  principle  that  prompts  the 
thrifty  farmer  to  put  the  biggest  apples  and  strawberries 
at  the  top  of  his  measure. 

The  clothing  of  the  regiment  was  alread^^n  an  advanced 
stage  of  demoralization.  It  was  of  the  ''shoddy"  sort, 
that  a  good  hard  wnnd  would  almost  blow  to  pieces. 

Corporal  Klegg  was  anxious  that  not  only  his  person^ 
but  all  his  goods  and  chattels,  should  make  as  creditable 
an  appearance  as  possible.  He  put  on  the  best  and  clean- 
est garments  he  had,  and  then  betook  himself  to  fixing  his 
knapsack  so  it  would  pass  muster. 

"Them  duds  is  a  bad  lot, "he  said  to  Shorty,  casting  rue- 
ful glances  at  the  little  heap  of  soiled  and  ragged  clothes. 
''Purty  hard  to  make  a  decent  show  with  them  things!'* 

''Wait  a  minute,"  said  Shorty,  "an'  I'll  show  ye  a  leetle 
trick." 

Taking  his  poncho  under  his  arm,  Shorty  went  to  the 
rear  of  the  camp,  where  the  mules  were  feeding,  and  pres- 
ently returned  with  a  bunch  of  hay. 

"What  ye  goin'  to  do  with  that?"  asked  Si. 


308  shorty's  ingenious  scheme. 

**You  jest  do  's  I  tell  ye,  and  don't  ax  no  questions. 
Cram  some  o'  this  hay  into  yer  knapsack  'n'  fill  'er  up,  'n' 
then  put  a  shirt  or  suthin,  the  best  ye  kin  find,  on  top,  'n* 
the  colonel'll  think  she's  full  o' clothes  right  from  the  laun- 
dry.   I'm  goin'  ter  fix  mine  that  way.'' 

''Shorty,  you're  a  trump !"  said  Si  approvingly.  ''That 
'11  be  bully!" 

It  required  but  a  few  minutes  to  carry  out  the  plan.  The 
hay  was  stuffed  into  the  knapsacks,  and  all  vagrant  spears 
were  carefully  tucked  in.  Then  a  garment,  folded  so  as  to 
conceal  its  worst  features,  was  nicely  spread  over  the  hay, 
the  flaps  were  closed  and  buckled,  and  the  young  Hoosiers 
were  ready  for  inspection. 

"S'posen  the  colonel  sh'd  take  a  notion  to  go  pokin' 
down  into  them  knapsacks,"  said  Si ;  "  don't  ye  think  it  'd 
be  purty  cold  weather  fer  us  ?" 

"P'r'aps  it  mout  "  answered  Shorty;  "but  we've  got 
ter  take  the  chances.  He's  got  six  er  seven  hunderd  knap- 
sacks to  'nspect,  'n'  I  don't  b'lieve  he'll  stick  his  nose 
down  into  ver3^  many  on  'em !" 

At  the  appointed  time  the  battalion  was  formed  and  the 
inspection  was  gone  through  with  in  good  style.  The 
colonel  and  the  field  and  staff  officers,  escorted  by  the  cap- 
tain of  each  successive  company,  moved  grandly  between 
the  ranks,  their  swords  dangling  around  and  getting 
mixed  up  with  their  legs.  The  soldiers  stood  facing  inward 
like  so  many  wooden  men,  with  their  open  knapsacks  lying 
upon  the  ground  at  their  feet.  The  colonel  looked  sharply 
right  and  left,  stopping  now  and  then  to  commend  a  sol- 
dier whose  "traps"  were  in  particularly  good  condition, 
or  to  "go  for"  another  whose  slouchy  appearance  betok- 
ened untidy  habits.  If  a  button  was  missing,  or  a  shoe 
untied,  his  eye  was  keen  to  detect  it,  and  a  word  of  re- 
proof was  administered  to  the  delinquent. 

As  the  colonel  started  down  the  line  of  Company  Q,  Si 
iwatched  him  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes  with  no  little 


THE  COLONEL  WAS  TOO  INQUISITIVE. 


309 


anxiety.  His  heart  thumped  as  he  saw  him  occasionally 
stoop  and  fumble  over  the  contents  of  a  knapsack,  evi- 
dently to  test  the  truth  of  Longfellow's  declaration  that 
** things  are  not  what  they  seem."  What  if  the  colonel 
should  go  down  into  the  bowels  of  his  knapsack!  He 
shuddered  at  the  thought. 

Si  almost  fainted  when  he  saw  the  colonel  stop  in  front 
of  Shorty  and  make  an  examination  of  his  fat-looking 
knapsack.  Military  dignity  gave  way  when  the  removal 
of  the  single  garment  exposed  the  stuffing  of  hay.  The 
officers  burst  into  a  laugh  at  the  unexpected  revelation, 
while  the  boys  on  either  side  almost  exploded  in  their  en- 
joyment of  Shorty's  discomfiture. 


SHORTY'S   COLD  DAY. 


''Captain,"  said  the  colonel,  with  as  much  sternness  as 
he  could  command,  ''as  soon  as  your  company  is  dis- 
missed, detail  a  guard  to  take  charge  of  this  man.  Give 
him  a  stiff  turn  of  fatigue  duty.  You  can  find  something 
for  him  to  do ;  and  make  him  v^-ork  hard,  if  it  is  Sunday. 
Keep  him  at  it  till  church-call,  and  then  take  him  to  hear, 
the  chaplain.  He  needs  to  be  preached  to.  Perhaps,  be- 
tween the  fatigue  duty  and  the  chaplain,  we  can  straighten 
him  out." 


310  A  CLOSE  SHAVE  FOR  SI. 

Corporal  Klegg  heard  all  this,  and  he  wished  the  earth 
might  swallow  him.  '  *  These  stripes  is  gone  this  time,  sure  ! '' 
he  said  to  himself,  as  he  looked  at  the  chevrons  on  his  arm. 
''But  there's  no  use  givin'  yerself  away,  Si,''  he  continued, 
in  his  mental  soliloquy.  ''Brace  up,  'n'  mebbe  the  colonel 
'11  skip  ye." 

Si  had  been  badly  shaken  up  by  the  colonel's  episode  with 
Shorty,  but  by  a  great  effort  he  gathered  himself  together 
and  was  at  his  best,  externally,  when  the  colonel  reached 
him,  though  his  thoughts  were  in  a  raging  condition.  He 
stood  as  straight  as  a  ramrod,  his  face  was  clean  and  rosy, 
and  his  general  make-up  was  as  good  as  could  be  expected 
under  the  circumstances. 

The  colonel  had  always  remembered  Si  as  the  soldier 
he  had  promoted  for  his  gallantry.  As  he  came  up  he 
greeted  the  corporal  with  a  smile  and  a  nod  of  recognition. 
He  was  evidently  pleased  at  his  tidy  appearance.  He  cast 
aglanceat  the  voluptuous  knapsack,  and  Si's  heart  seemed 
to  sink  away  down  into  his  shoes. 

But  the  fates  were  kind  to  Si  that  day.  The  colonel 
turned  to  the  captain  and  told  him  that  Corporal  Klegg 
was  the  model  soldier  of  Company  Q.  Si  was  the  happiest 
man  in  the  universe  at  that  precise  moment.  It  was  not 
on  account  of  the  compliment  the  colonel  had  paid  him, 
but  because  his  knapsack  had  escaped  a  critical  examina- 
tion. 

The  inspection  over,  Compan^^  Q  marched  back  to  its 
quarters  and  was  dismissed.  Poor  Shorty  was  soon  hard 
at  work  chopping  wood,  with  a  guard  on  duty  over  him. 
Si  was  sorry  for  him,  and  at  the  same  time  felt  a  glow  of 
pleasure  at  the  thought  that  it  v/as  not  his  own  knapsack 
instead  of  Shorty's  that  the  colonel  had  examined.  He 
could  not  help  feeling,  too,  that  it  was  a  great  joke  on 
Shorty  to  be  caught  in  his  own  trap. 

Shorty  took  his  medicine  like  a  man,  unheeding  the  gibes 
and  jeers  of  his  hard-hearted  comrades. 


''the  groves  were  god's  first  temples."      311 


The  bugle  sounded  the  call  for  religious  services.  Shorty 
was  not  in  a  frame  of  mind  that  fitted  him  for  devout 
worship.  In  fact,  few  in  the  regiment  had  greater  need  of 
the  regenerating  influence.  He  had  never  been  inside  of  a 
church  but  two  or  three  times  in  his  life,  and  he  really  felt 
that  to  be  compelled  to  go  and  listen  to  the  chaplain's  ser- 
mon was  the  hardest  part  of  the  double  punishment  the 
colonel  had  inflict- 
ed upon  him. 

The  companies 
were  all  marched 
to  a  wooded  knoll 
just  outside  the 
camp.  Shorty  had 
the  companion- 
ship of  a  guard 
with  fixed  bayo- 
net, who  escorted 
him  to  the  place 
chosen  for  the 
services.  He  was 
taken  to  a  point 
near  the  chaplain, 
that  he  might  get 
the  full  benefit  of 
the  preacher's 
words. 

Under  the  spreading  trees,  whose  foliage  was  brilliant 
with  the  hues  of  autumn,  in  the  mellow  sunshine  of  that 
October  day,  the  men  seated  themselves  upon  the  ground 
to  hear  the  gospel  preached.  The  chaplain,  in  his  best 
uniform,  stood  and  prayed  fervently  for  Divine  guidance 
and  protection  and  blessing,  while  the  soldiers  listened, 
with  heads  reverently  bowed.  Then  he  gave  out  the 
familiar  hymn, 

'*  Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross," 


CALLING  TO  REPENTANCE. 


312  WAR  AND  RELIGION. 

and  all  joined  in  the  old  tune  *'Balerma,"  their  voices  swell- 
ing in  mighty  chorus.    As  they  sang, 

**  Are  there  no  foes  for  me  to  face  ?  " 
there  came  to  the  minds  of  many  a  practical  application 
of  the  words,  in  view  of  the  long  and  fruitless  chase  after 
the  rebels,  in  which  they  had  been  engaged. 

The  chaplain  had  formerlj^  been  an  old-fashioned  Meth- 
odist circuit-rider  in  Indiana.  He  was  full  of  fiery  zeal, 
and  his  vivid  portrayal  of  the  horrors  of  future  punish- 
ment ought  to  have  had  a  salutar^^  effect  upon  Shorty, 
but  it  is  greatly  to  be  feared  that  he  steeled  his  stubborn 
heart  against  all  that  the  chaplain  said. 

It  was  difiicult  not  to  feel  that  there  was  something 
contradictory  and  anomalous  about  religious  services  in 
the  army.  Brutal,  hideous  w^ar,  and  all  its  attendant  cir- 
cumstances, seemed  so  utterly  at  variance  with  the  princi- 
ples of  the  Bible  and  the  teachings  of  Him  who  was  meek 
and  lowly,  that  few  of  the  soldiers  had  philosophy  enough 
to  reconcile  them. 

The  men  spent  the  afternoon  in  reading  what  few  stray 
books  and  fugitive  newspapers  there  were  in  camp,  mend- 
ing their  clothes,  sleeping,  and  some  of  them,  it  is  painful 
to  add,  in  playing  euchre  and  old  sledge.  Dress  parade 
closed  the  day  that  had  brought  welcome  rest  to  the  way- 
worn soldiers. 

"Shorty,  "said  Si,  after  they  had  gone  to  bed  that  night, 
*1  sh'd  be  mighty  sorry  if  7  'd  ha'  got  up  that  knapsack  trick 
this  mornin',  'cause  you  got  left  on  it  so  bad." 

** There's  a  good  many  things,''  replied  Shorty,  ''that's 
all  right  when  ye  don't  git  ketched.  It  worked  tip-top 
with  you.  Si,  'n'  I'm  glad  of  it.  But  I  put  ye  up  to  it,  'n'  I 
shouldn't  never  got  over  it  ef  the  colonel  had  caught  ye,  on 
'count  o'  them  stripes  on  yer  arm.  He'd  ha'  snatched 
'em  mity  quick,  sure's  yer  born.  You're  my  pard,  'n'  I'm 
jest  as  proud  of 'em  as  you  be  yerself.  I'm  only  a  privit', 
'n'  they  can't   rejuce  me    any  lower!     'Sides,  I  ^low  it 


PUNISHMENTS  IN  THE  ARMY.  313 

sarved  me  right,  'n'  I  don't  keer  so  1  didn't  git  you  inter 
no  scrape." 

The  forms  of  punishment  in  the  army  were  many  and 
unique.  Some  of  them  were  grotesque  and  ridiculous  in 
the  extreme — particularly  those  for  minor  offenses,  which 
came  within  the  discretion  of  regimental  and  company 
commanders.  Commissioned  oihcers  could  only  be  pun- 
ished by  the  sentence  of  a  court-martial.  They  could  not 
be  *' reduced"  in  rank.  Reprimand  and  forfeiture  of  pay 
were  common  penalties  for  the  milder  forms  of  their  tres- 
passes and  sins.  In  flagrant  cases  the  usual  punishment 
was  ''cashiering"  or  ''dishonorable  discharge, " often  with 
forfeiture  of  all  pay  and  allowances  due  the  officer.  For 
desertion,  sleeping  on  post,  and  all  the  graver  offenses, 
non-commissioned  officers  and  privates  were  also  tried  by 
court-martial.  Only  in  extreme  cases  was  the  death  pen- 
alty imposed.  The  most  common  punishments  v^ere  re- 
duction to  the  ranks — in  the  cases  of  non-commissioned 
officers — loss  of  pay,  confinement  in  military  prison,  hard 
labor  with  ball  and  chain  at  the  ankle,  shaving  the  head 
and  "drumming  out  of  camp" — sometimes  with  a  perma- 
nent decoration  in  the  shape  of  a  brand  on  the  hip. 

For  minor  infractions  of  discipline,  often  committed 
through  ignorance  and  without  wrong  intent,  there  was 
no  limit  to  the  variety  of  penalties  suggested  by  the  whims 
and  caprices  of  colonels  and  captains  and  even  orderly 
sergeants.  In  many  cases  they  appeared  unreasonable,  in 
view  of  the  triffing  character  of  the  offenses.  The  "guard- 
house" was  a  retributive  institution  that  existed  every- 
where. At  permanent  stations  this  was  usually  a  building 
of  some  kind,  which  was  made  to  serve  the  purposes  of  a 
jail.  In  the  field  it  was  often  a  tent — perhaps  only  a  fence- 
comer.  Wherever  the  headquarters  of  the  camp-guard 
were  fixed,  there  was  the ' '  guard-house. ' '  Often  just  before 
go'ng  into  action  prisoners  were  released  and  sent  to  theii 


314 


SOME  CORRECTIVE  MEASURES, 


companies.    If  they  behaved  well  in  battle  it  served  as  an 
atonement  for  their  transgressions. 

The  ^'buck  and  gag"  was  a  severe  corporeal  punishment* 
The  ^'bucking"  was  done  by  securely  tying  the  wrists, 
seating  the  culprit  on  the  ground  and  placing  the  arms 


THE   WAY   OF  THE  TRANSGRESSOR. 

over  the  knees,  which  were  drawn  up  close  to  the  body, 
and  then  thrusting  a  stout  stick— frequently  a  musket- 
through  under  the  knees  and  over  the  arms  at  the  elbow. 
It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  utterly  helpless  condi- 
tion in  which  a  man  can  be  placed.  The  ''gag"  was  a 
piece  of  wood,  or  more  often  a  bayonet,  pushed  as  far 


SEVERE  AND  OTHERWISE.  315 

back  as  possible  between  the  open  jaws  and  fastened  with 
a  cord  on  either  side  of  the  face,  tied  at  the  back  of  the 
neck.  To  be  kept  in  this  position  for  two  hours  was  ex- 
tremely painful.  Frequently,  instead  of  being  ''bucked," 
the  offender  was  "tied  up  by  the  thumbs"  to  the  side 
of  a  building  or  the  limb  of  a  tree,  the  arms  being  stretched 
upward  by  cords  fastened  around  the  thumbs,  the  cul- 
prit's heels  just  reaching  the  ground.  The  ''gag"  was  usu- 
ally applied  in  addition.  This  position  was  also  very  pain- 
ful, and  the  thumbs  often  became  black  and  swollen. 
Sometimes  a  man  was  tied  by  the  wrists  to  the  tail-board 
of  a  wagon  during  a  day's  march. 

The  ''knapsack  drill "  and  carrying  a  rail  upon  the  shoul- 
der, which  were  ver^^  common,  have  entered  into  the  dis- 
ciplinary experience  of  Si  Klegg.  In  the  milder  class  of 
punishments  were :  promenading  the  camp  with  a  headless 
barrel  around  the  body,  suspended  by  cords  from  the  neck ; 
sitting  for  a  stated  period  "straddle"  of  a  horizontal  pole, 
6ve  or  six  feet  from  the  ground ;  standing  for  hours,  like  a 
«tatue,  on  a  barrel ;  confinement  in  the  "stocks,"  and  many 
others.  Extra  fatigue  duty — for  hours  or  days,  gauged 
by  the  enormity  of  the  offense — w^as  universally  in  vogue 
as  a  corrective  measure. 

It  would  have  been  strange  if  the  army  did  not  contain 
many  \vho  were  turbulent,  lawless  and  insubordinate. 
Some  were  an  absolute  injury  to  the  service,  fomenters  of 
disturbance,  and  corrupting  and  demoralizing  in  their 
influence.  These  were  the  ones  who  were  dishonorably 
discharged  and  drummed  out  of  camp  to  the  tune  of  the 
"Rogue's  March."  In  many  cases  severe  punishments  were 
necessary,  but  it  is  true,  on  the  other  hand,  that  they  were 
sometimes  barbarously  cruel.  Authority  to  prescribe  and 
enforce  penalties  at  will  is  a  dangerous  power.  It  was 
conferred,  by  virtue  of  military  rank,  upon  some  whose 
lack  of  judgment  and  of  the  * '  quality  of  mercy  "  should  have 
disqualified  them  for  official  position. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Ik  Which  Si's  Temper  and   Muscles    are  Sorely  Tried,  and  H* 
Narrowly  Escapes  Getting  into  Trouble. 

ii  '^  I  ^HE  cap'n  says  we've  got  a  mighty  hard  road  ta 
J^  travel  to-day,"  said  the  orderly  of  Company  Q 
one  morning.  "Our  company  's  detailed  to  march  with 
the  wagons  'n*  help  'em  along.  I  reck'n  the  mules  '11  have 
more  'n  they  can  manage,  'n'  we've  got  to  give  'em  a  lift 
when  they  need  it." 

There  seemed  to  be  no  limit  to  the  physical  possibilities 
'of  the  soldiers.  Leaving  bullet  and  shell  and  bayonet  out 
of  the  account,  the  successful  manner  in  which  men  with- 
stood the  tests  of  endurance  to  which  they  were  subjected 
was  simply  marvelous.  Excessive  and  long  protracted  ex- 
ertion, exposure  and  hunger  destroyed  the  lives  of  many 
thousands,  but  other  thousands  are  today  illustrations 
of  v^hat  a  man  may  pass  through  and  yet  live.  It  is  often 
said  that  those  were  *'the  times  that  tried  men's  souls," 
but  a  cloud  of  witnesses  will  sustain  the  additional  state- 
ment that  they  tried  men's  bodies  as  well.  Indeed,  to 
those  who  marched  so  many  weary  miles,  the  familiar 
quotation  would  seem  more  applicable  if  the  last  word 
were  spelled  ' '  soles . ' ' 

It  was  often  demonstrated  that  men  could  endure  more 
than  horses,  or  even  mules.  On  those  long  and  arduous 
marches,  day  and  night,  through  cold  and  storm,  v^ithbut 
scant  rations,  the  soldiers  plodded  along,  patiently  and 
even  cheerfully,  while  the  animals  lay  down  by  the  road- 

316 


COMPANY  Q  TO  HELP  THE  MULES.  317 

side  with  their  heels  in  the  air,  and  forever  ceased  from  their 
labors.  So  it  was  that  when  supplies  ran  short  the  horses 
and  mules  were  first  looked  after.  A  cavalryman  was 
always  expected  to  have  his  horse  fed  and  cared  for, 
whether  he  got  anything  himself  or  not.  When  there  was 
a  job  of  hauling  that  was  too  heavy  for  the  mules,  the 
men  were  called  to  their  assistance,  and  this  never  failed 
of  the  desired  result. 

''Tlbat  '11  be  jest  fun,  to  march  with  the  waggins,"  said 
Corporal  iHegg  to  Shorty,  as  they  were  getting  their 
breakfast.  *' We'll  pile  our  knapsacks  'n'  things  on  'n* 
make  the  mules  haul  'em,  'n'  we'll  have  a  picnic." 

''Don't  be  too  sure  o'  that,"  replied  Shorty.  ''Better 
wait  t'll  night  'n'  see  how  ye  feel  by  that  time.  I  guess  ye 
won't  be  quite  so  frisky  as  ye  ar'  this  mornin'.  I've  got  a 
notion  how  it'll  be  toda^^,  'n'  my  advice  is  to  fill  yerself 
up  with  grub,  'cause  ye'U  need  it  'fore  ye  git  through." 

It  was  not  necessary  to  tell  Si  to  do  this,  because  he 
always  did  it.  He  ate  all  of  his  own  rations,  and  when- 
ever a  man  got  sick  Si  would  immediately  enter  into  nego- 
tiations for  his  hardtack  and  bacon. 

After  the  usual  amount  of  scrambling  and  yelling  the 
wagons  were  loaded  and  the  men  were  in  line  ready  for  the 
road.  The  200th  Indiana  stepped  off  at  a  lively  gait,  in 
the  fresh  morning  air,  the  band  playing  "John  Brown's 
Body,"  "Red,  White  and  Blue,"  and  other  tunes  calcu- 
lated to  stimulate  the  flagging  zeal  of  such  as  were  getting 
faint  at  heart  and  weak  in  the  knees. 

But  few  of  the  new  regiments  were  permitted  to  have 
brass  bands.  The  200th  had,  however,  been  made  an  ex- 
ception. In  view  of  the  glorious  career  that  was  antici- 
pated for  it,  this  congregation  of  patriots  started  on  its 
travels  \vith  a  large  and  well-equipped  band  of  blowers. 
The  veteran  regiments  had  found  that  bands  were  a  luxu- 
rious superfluity.    Every  company  soon  developed  men 


318  THE  BRASS   BAND, 

who  were  so  gifted  in  the  art  of '' bio  wing  "  that  there  was 
little  need  for  brass  horns. 

It  is  true  that  music  had  charms  for  the  soldier.  In  the 
early  days  of  the  war,  when  the  head  of  a  regiment  entered 
a  straggling  town  and  the  band  struck  up  a  lively  air,  the 
effect  was  magical.  Bent  backs  involuntarily  straightened 
up,  arms  were  brought  to  a  ''right-shoulder-shift,"  strag- 
glers fell  into  their  places,  every  soldier  caught  the  step, 
aohes  and  blisters  were  for  the  moment  forgotten,  and  the 
column  went  swinging  along  under  the  inspiration  of  the 
martial  strains.  Every  old  infantryman  will  remember 
how  it  gladdened  his  heart  and  seemed  to  lighten  his  load 
when  he  heard  the  band  play.  Nor  can  he  forget  how,  at 
night,  when  quiet  had  settled  down  upon  the  bivouac,  his 
very  fingers  and  toes  tingled,  as  the  strains  of ''  The  Bowld 
Soger  Boy,"  or  ''The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,''  fell  upon  his 
ear ;  nor  how  the  tears  flowed  unbidden  down  his  tanned 
and  roughened  cheeks,  as  the  tender  melody  of  "Annie 
Laurie"  or  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  floated  through  the 
evening  air  and  came  to  him  like  a  blessed  benediction. 

But  the  bands  did  not  last  long.  The  horn-blowers,  as 
a  class,  were  not  "stayers."  They  appeared  to  use  up  all 
their  wind  in  blowing,  and  didn't  have  any  left  for  march* 
ing.  Like  most  of  the  non-combatants,  they  got  all  their 
traps  carried  on  the  wagons,  had  no  guard,  picket,  fatigue 
or  other  duty  to  perform,  and  were  popularly  believed  to 
have  a  "soft  thing,  "but  they  always  made  more  fuss  than 
anybody  else.  They  thought  they  ought  to  have  carriages 
to  ride  in.  and  restaurants  on  wheels  to  supply  them  with 
food. 

Up  to  this  time  the  band  of  the  200th  had  held  its  own 
pretty  well.  An  occasional  colic  or  other  ailment  had 
created  a  temporary  vacancy,  but  those  who  were  left 
blew  all  the  louder,  and  the  vacuum  caused  by  the  absence 
of  a  horn  or  two  was  not  noticed  in  the  general  racket. 
But  it  was  not  long  till  the  band  that  was  the  pride  of 


AND  ITS  UNTIMELY  END.  319 

those  roving  Hoosiers  shared  the  fate  of  all  the  rest.  The 
B-flat  bass  took  an  overdose  of  green  corn,  went  to  the 
hospital,  and  his  horn  was  heard  no  more.  The  E-flat 
cornet  proved  to  be  a  ** tenderfoot,"  and  after  hobbling 
along  on  his  blisters  for  a  few  days,  he  gave  it  np  and  quit. 
The  clarionet  player  gradually  weakened  and  finally  went 
to  the  rear,  without  anything  the  matter,  on  the  face  of 
the  returns,  except  that  his  ''sand"  had  run  out.  The 
piccoloist  knew  when  he  had  got  enough  and  deserted.  A 
wagon  wheel  ran  over  the  trombone  and  reduced  it  to  a 
chaotic  wreck.  The  man  who  rattled  the  snare  drum  was 
taken  in  ''out  of  the  wet "  by  some  rebel  troopers  while  he 
was  eating  pie  at  a  house  a  mile  away  from  camp.  Other 
casualties  followed,  and  there  were  not  enough  musicians 
to  play  an  intelligible  tune. 

In  fact,  there  wasn't  much  left  of  the  band  but  the  drum- 
major.  He  continued  to  strut  in  the  full  effulgence  of  his 
glory.  But  he  looked  like  a  hen  wandering  about  the 
barn-yard  with  two  or  three  forlorn  little  chicks — all  of  her 
brood  that  had  escaped  the  ravages  of  rats  and  the  "pip.'* 
So  at  last  the  drum-major  and  the  survivors  of  the  band 
were  sent  back  and  mustered  out,  and  the  200th  saw  them 
no  more. 

But  during  this  autopsy  on  the  late  lamented  brass  band 
of  the  200th  Indiana,  the  regiment  is  stumbling  along  the 
stretch  of  bad  road,  and  Company  Q  has  entered  upon  the 
active  duties  of  the  day.  Si  Klegg  is  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
*' picnic  "  he  told  Shorty  they  would  have. 

Soon  after  leaving  camp  the  column  filed  off  the  pike  and 
struck  into  one  of  those  barbarous  country  roads  or  trails 
that  are  so  common  in  the  South.  They  do  not  seem  to 
begin  or  end  anywhere  in  particular.  Often  the  devious 
course  runs  through  woods  and  swamps  and  over  rough 
hills,  the  path  filled  with  ruts  and  obstructed  by  logs  and 
stumps  and  stones. 

**  What  sort  o'  road  's  this  ?  "  asked  Si  of  a  woman  who 


320  WITH  THE  WAGON  TRAIN. 

Stood  swabbing  her  mouth  with  snu£f  at  a  squatter's  cabin 
by  the  wayside. 

*' Wall,  it's  fa'r  to  middlin',"  was  the  reply.  *' Ye'veseen 
better  'n'  I  reck'n  ye've  seen  wuss.  I  'low  ye  kin  git 
through,  but  it'll  take  a  powerful  sight  o'  puUin' in  spots.'* 

This  diagnosis  proved  to  be  correct.  The  soldiers  man- 
aged to  **git  through  "  because  they  always  did  that,  but 
the  ''powerful  sight  o'  pullin'"  was  an  important  and 
prominent  factor  in  the  operation. 

Company  Q  was  distributed  along  the  regimental  train, 
eight  or  ten  men  to  each  wagon.  When  one  of  the  wagons 
"stuck,"  the  men  took  hold  of  the  wheels,  the  teamster 
cracked  his  whip  with  extra  force,  and  threw  additional 
vehemence  and  fervor  into  his  exhortations  to  the  strain- 
ing, panting  mules.  If  all  this  failed  to  produce  the  desired 
effect,  there  was  a  general  muster  of  reinforcements.  Axes, 
levers,  ropes  and  other  appliances  were  brought  into  requi- 
sition, and  the  combined  efforts  of  men  and  mules,  with 
much  prying  and  lifting  and  yelling,  were  generally  suc- 
cessful. The  yelling  was  considered  especiall}^  valuable  as 
an  accessory.  The  greater  the  tug  the  louder  everybody 
yelled.  The  shouts  and  exclamatory  words  were  chiefly 
addressed  to  the  mules.  Those  -who  were  not  within  con- 
venient earshot  of  the  team  went  in  on  general  principles 
and  did  their  ''level  best "  to  swell  the  din. 

Corporal  Klegg,  with  a  squad  of  men  which,  of  course, 
included  Shorty,  accompanied  the  headquarters'  wagon, 
containing  the  colonel's  outfit.  Si,  by  reason  of  his  rank, 
was  in  charge,  and  determined  to  spare  no  effort  to  bring 
the  colonel's  -wagon  through  in  good  shape,  whatever 
might  be  the  fate  of  the  others.  The  team  was  one  of  the 
best  in  the  train ;  the  muleteer  was  an  artist  in  his  profes- 
sion, singularly  gifted  in  language ;  and  for  a  time  all  went 
well.  A  lift  and  a  yell  now  and  then  sufficed  to  keep  the 
wagon  moving  most  of  the  time. 

The  soldiers  always  yelled  on  the  slightest  provocation. 


THE  ARMY  YELL.  321 

Day  or  night,  in  camp  or  on  the  march,  they  exercised 
their  lungs  whenever  an^^thing  gave  them  an  excuse  for 
doing  so.  If  ?.  favorite  general  came  in  sight  he  received  =>. 
boisterous  greeting;  if  a  frightened  "cotton-tail"  rabbit 
started  up  it  was  enough  to  set  a  w^hole  division  yelling. 
One  of  those  mighty  choruses  w^ould  sweep  in  a  tumul- 
Ituous  wave  for  miles  through  a  great  camp  or  along  a 
marching  column,  when  not  one  man  in  ten  had  any  idea 
what  he  was  yelling  at  or  about.  It  was  violently  conta- 
gious, and  one  regiment  or  brigade  yelled  just  because 
its  neighbor  did.  No  great  undertaking  that  required 
united  physical  effort  was  accomplished  without  the  inev- 
itable yell.  The  men  yelled  when  the  bugle  sounded  for  a 
rest  from  the  toilsome  march,  and  when  the  head  of 
column  filed  off  the  road  betokening  the  end  of  the  day's 
tramp;  the^^  yelled  at  the  sutler,  the  commissary,  the 
quartermaster  and  the  paymaster;  they  yelled  with  equal 
ardor  at  the  sight  of  a  pig,  a  chicken  or  a  woman — for 
there  were  times  when  a  woman's  face  was  not  seen  for 
weeks. 

Si  and  Shorty  chattered  as  they  trudged  along,  occa- 
sionally giving  their  backs  and  shoulders  a  rest  by  hang- 
ing their  knapsacks  on  behind,  or  underneath,  where  the 
teamster  could  not  see  them,  and  sliding  their  muskets  in 
among  the  baggage  and  tent  poles  that  filled  the  wagon 
to  the  very  roof  of  the  canvas.  Once,  when  stopping  for  a 
brief  rest,  the  teamster  dismounted  and  went  to  the  rear 
of  his  vehicle.  This  w^as  prompted  by  seeing  the  men  com- 
fortably walking  without  their  customary  burdens.  Waiv- 
ing all  ceremony,  he  quickly  jerked  the  knapsacks  from 
their  fastenings  and  flung  them  on  the  ground.  These 
were  followed  a  moment  later  by  the  guns,  which  he  drew 
from  their  places  of  concealment. 

"Ye  ought  ter  be  'shamed  o*  yerselves,  ye  lazy  lubbers," 
he  said.  "  There's  every  pound  on  that  waggin  that  them 
'ere  mules  kin  pull.    You  fellers  gits  paid  fer  carryin'  them 


322  STUCK  IN  THE  MUD. 

knapsacks  'n'  guns,  'n'  ye've  got  to  arn  yer  money.  Ef  I 
cotch  ye  puttin'  'em  on  the  waggin  I'll  report  jq  to  the 
colonel.    Ye  knows  it's  agin  orders." 

''S'posen  you  puts  on  my  traps  'n'  carries  'em  awhile, 
'n'  see  how  ye  like  it,  while  I  ride  yer  mule!"  said  Si,  who 
was  inclined  to  be  a  little  spunky  about  it,  and  for  the 
moment  forgot  that  he  was  a  corporal. 

*'Ye'd  better  be  a  little  keerful,"  said  the  teamster,  '\*.r 
ye'llgit  them  stripes  snatched  off'n  yer  arms.  You  Iienr 
me!" 

Si  knew  that  the  mule-driver  had  the  best  of  the  argu- 
ment, and  thought  it  wise  not  to  continue  the  debate.  He 
told  the  men  to  sling  their  knapsacks  and  shoulder  their 
guns,  and  the  procession  again  moved  forward.  But  the 
boys  soon  had  their  knapsacks  hanging  on  the  wagon 
again,  being  careful  to  snatch  them  oif  whenever  the  team 
stopped. 

Trouble  came  at  length.  They  reached  a  slough  where 
the  mules  sank  to  their  knees  and  the  wheels  went  down 
to  the  hubs.  The  driver  yelled  and  cracked  his  whip,  but 
all  to  no  purpose.  The  wagon  was  immovable.  After 
each  repeated  effort  it  was  only  more  hopelessly  bemired. 
A  council  of  war  was  held,  and  it  was  decided  that  the 
only  way  was  to  unload.  Half  the  members  of  the  com- 
pany ^were  summoned  to  their  assistance. 

There  was  no  alternative,  and  the  men  plunged  into  the 
mud.  Five  or  six  climbed  upon  the  wagon,  threw  off  the 
cover,  and  passed  down  tents,  baggage,  and  all  the  par- 
aphernalia of  the  colonel's  **mess."  The  men  carried 
them,  splashing  through  mud  and  water,  to  solid  ground 
ahead,  where  they  would  have  to  be  reloaded. 

Si  stood  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  with  the  evident 
intention  of  confining  his  efforts  to  ''bossing"  the  job. 
The  wagonmaster,  mounted  on  a  mule,  came  galloping  up 
to  see  what  the  trouble  was  all  about.    He  was  bustling 


SI  S  PROTEST   OVERRULED. 


323 


and  fussy,  like  all  wagonmasters,  and  made  a  great  deal 
of  unnecessary  noise. 

''What  ye  standin'  there  for,  like  a  bump  on  a  log?  "  he 
said  to  Si.     "Why  don't  ye  take  hold  and  do  something?" 

''Sir,  I'm  a  corporil !  "  said  Si. 

*•  Wall,  that  don't  make  no  difference.  You  jest  wade  in 
an'  help  unload  that  wagon,  or  you  won't  be  a  corporal 
any  longer  'n  tomorrow." 

The  man  on  the  mule  appeared  to  be  master  of  the  situa^ 
tion,  and  Si  reluctantly 
obeyed  the  order. 

"  Thought  ye'd  have 
to  come  to  it,"  said 
Shorty,  as  Si  took  one 
corner  of  the  colonel's 
mess -chest,  and  went 
half  way  to  his  knees 
in  the  mud. 

As  soon  as  it  was 
empty  the  wagon  was 
pried  up  and  the  mules 
succeeded  in  getting  it 
upon  terra  £rma.  Then 
it  was  reloaded  and 
started  again  upon  its 
winding  way .  The  tired 
and   bespattered    men  "sm,  i  am  a  corporil!" 

slung  knapsacks,  shouldered  muskets,  and  plodded  on. 

In  some  places  the  w^ay  was  very  stony  and  uneven. 
More  than  once  the  wagon  was  only  kept  from  overturn- 
ing by  the  efforts  of  those  on  the  upper  side  of  the  road 
with  ropes  fastened  to  the  bows.  There  was  much 
tugging  and  lifting,  and  the  men  became  thoroughly 
*'blown." 

At  length  a  steep  and  rugged  hill  was  reached.  A  glance 
was  enough  to  show  that  the  mules,  unaided,  could  not 


C>24  '  THE  TUG  OF  WAR. 

pull  Up  the  load,  and  that  a  combination  of  all  the  physical 
forces  at  hand  would  be  necessary. 

The  whole  of  Company  Q  was  ordered  to  the  scene  of 
action.  The  men  stacked  arms  and  stripped  off  their  ac- 
couterments.  A  stout  rope,  big  enough  to  anchor  a  ship, 
which  had  been  provided  for  such  an  emergency,  was 
fastened  in  the  middle  to  the  pole  of  the  wagon,  and  run 
out  ahead  in  two  lines  a  hundred  feet  long. 

** Every  man  to  the  ropes!"  shouted  the  wagonmaster. 

Corporal  Klegg  looked  despairingly  at  his  chevrons,  as 
if  he  thought  they  ought  to  protect  him  from  such  indig- 
nities. 

*'I  didn't  'list  fer  a  mule !"  he  growled  to  Shorty,  as  they 
took  their  places  at  the  rope. 

The  men  stretched  away  up  the  hill,  like  the  volunteer 
firemen  of  a  generation  ago  hauling  their  ''masheen"  to  a 
fire.  Those  who  were  unable  to  find  room  at  the  ropes 
Bwarmed  around  the  wagon,  some  at  the  tail-board  and 
others  at  the  wheels,  ready  to  lift  and  push  when  the  word 
Was  given.  A  few,  who  had  not  rushed  with  alacrity  to 
the  various  posts  of  duty,  were  left  out,  and  they  rather 
eeemed  to  be  glad  of  it.  These  stationed  themselves  at 
convenient  points  to  yell  at  the  mules,  this  department  of 
especial  usefulness  being  still  unoccupied. 

"Are  you  ready ?  Now,  all  together— Git  .^ "  shouted  the 
wagonmaster. 

Company  Q,  as  one  man,  set  up  a  wild,  unearthly  yell 
and  braced  for  the  tug.  Like  a  fusillade  of  pistol-shots,  the 
teamster  cracked  his  whip  as  he  touched  up  alternately  the 
"leaders"  and  "swings,"  at  the  same  time  plunging  his 
long  spurs  into  the  reeking  sides  of  the  saddle  "wheeler," 
while  from  somewhere  in  his  interior  there  came  forth  a 
series  of  piercing  whoops  that  would  have  done  credit  to 
a  Comanche  warrior.  The  captain  of  the  company  pranced 
up  and  down  the  hill,  cleaving  the  air  with  his  sword,  and 
screaming  to  the  men  to  remember  their  suffering  country. 


BUT  THE  WAGON  WENT  UP. 


325 


He  confidentially  informed  the  first  lieutenant  that  if  he 
should  accidentally  get  in  range  of  a  mule's  heels  during 
the  engagement,  he  wanted  to  be  wrapped  in  the  old  flag 
and  buried  where  he  fell. 

It  would  have  been  strange  if  such  a  union  of  vocal  and 
muscular  forces  did  not  yield  immediate  results.  The 
wagon  went  up  that  hill  almost  as  quickly  as  if  it  had 
been  shot  out  of  a  mortar.  When  the  summit  was  reached 
and  the  laurels  of  victory,  as  it  were,  crowned  the  perspir- 
ing brow  of  Company  Q,  there  went  up  one  tremendous 
shout  of  triumph. 


NOW,  ALL  together! 


f" 


"Now  for  the  next  one ! "  said  the  wagonmaster.  "That 
was  well  done,  an'  we'll  snake  'em  all  up  in  jest  no  time." 

The  boys  hadn't  thought  of  the  other  wagons  to  be 
pulled  up,  and  their  hearts  sank  within  them  at  the  pros- 
pect. But  in  an  hour  or  so  the  work  was  done.  Each 
wagon  was  ''yanked"  up  by  the  tugging  and  yelling  pro- 
cess already  described.  The  teams  had,  however,  an  ob- 
vious advantage  over  the  men.  Each  of  them  had  to  pull 
up  but  once,  while  the  men  had  to  apply  their  energies  a 
dozen  times.    Si  Klegg  noticed  this  odious  discrimination. 


326  WRECK  OF  THE   COLONEL  S  OUTFIT. 

and  it  led  him  to  remark  to  Shorty  that  on  the  whole  he 
believed  he'd  rather  be  a  mule  than  a  soldier. 

Once  the  experiment  of  doubling  teams  was  tried,  and 
twelve  mules  were  strung  out  ahead  of  the  wagon.  But 
they  proved  unmanageable,  plunging  and  kicking  and  tang- 
ling themselves  into  a  knot,  to  untie  which  required  the 
combined  ingenuity  of  half  a  dozen  talented  teamsters. 

By  the  time  the  last  wagon  was  at  the  top  the  men  were 
thoroughly  ''tuckered  out,''  as  they  expressed  it.  The  day 
was  warm,  and  perspiration  streamed  from  their  bodies. 
But  there  had  already  been  so  much  delay  that  there  was 
no  time  to  be  lost.  Slinging  their  loads  upon  their  aching 
backs  they  started  on. 

Soon  the  road  led  down  the  other  side  of  the  ridge.  The 
descent  was  so  steep  that  it  was  not  considered  safe  to 
trust  to  the  brakes,  and  the  former  operation  was  re  versed. 
The  rope  was  fastened  to  the  rear  of  each  wagon,  and  the 
men  applied  their  muscles  to  the  work  of  retarding  its 
speed.  They  went  dragging,  slipping  and  skating  along 
on  their  gambrels  as  the  wagon  pulled  them  to  the  bottom. 
It  was,  if  possible,  worse  than  the  getting-up  process. 

A  dire  calamity  befell  the  colonel's  wagon.  N^ar  the 
foot  of  the  hill  one  forward  wheel  went  into  a  rut  and  the 
other  struck  a  stone,  and  the  effect  was  instantaneous. 
The  wagon  toppled  for  an  instant,  balancing  on  two  wheels, 
and  then,  before  aid  could  reach  it,  went  over  with  a 
mighty  crash.  The  cover  and  bows  were  dashed  away 
like  straws,  and  there  was  a  general  spill  of  the  load.  The 
colonel's  mess-chest,  and  sundry  bags  and  boxes  containing 
his  table  supplies,  were  broken  open  and  their  tempting 
contents  exposed  to  the  gloating  eyes  of  the  soldiers.  There 
were  cans  of  preserved  fruit,  and  vegetables,  and  pickles, 
and  lobster,  the  sight  of  which  drove  the  boys  half  crazy. 
There  were  also  some  dark  looking  bottles,  but  what  was 
contained  therein  can  onlj^  be  conjectured.  It  was  not 
possible  to  withstand  such  a  temptation.   The  soldiers ftir* 


STOMACH  AGAINST  CONSCIENCE. 


327 


tively  snatched  up  these  things  and  stowed  them  into  their 
haversacks. 

Si  hesitated  a  moment,  while  a  brief  argument  was  going 
on  between  his  conscience  and  his  stomach.  The  latter 
prevailed,  and  he  went  in  for  his  share  of  the  spoils  of  war. 

''Guess  we'll  have  that  picnic,  arter  all!"  he  said  to 
Shorty,  stuffing  a  box  of  sardines  into  his  breeches  pocket. 

By  the  time  the  captain — who  had  stayed  at  the  top  of 
the  hill  to  superintend  operations— reached  the  wreck,  all 
the  loose  edibles  had 
disappeared,  and  the 
men  were  busily  en- 
gaged in  clearing  away 
the  debris,  preparatory 
to  righting  and  reload- 
ing the  vehicle.  This 
was  accomplished  in 
due  time,  and  the 
wagon  finally  reached 
the  end  of  the  day's 
journey  without  fur- 
ther mishap. 

By  this  time  it  was 
nearly  dark.  The 
colonel  had  long  been 
waiting  for  his  supper, 
and  was  in  a  famishing  condition.  Rumors  of  the  disaster 
to  the  wagon  had  reached  him,  but  the  possibility  of  a  raid 
on  his  commissary  department  did  not  for  a  moment  enter 
his  imagination. 

There  was  a  sudden  and  alarming  rise  in  the  temperature 
around  headquarters  when  the  wagon  was  unloaded.  If 
the  weather  bureau  had  been  in  operation  then  and  there, 
it  would  have  displayed  the  storm  flag  over  the  territory 
occupied  by  Company  Q,  warning  its  members  to  look  owt 
for  an  immediate  tornado,  of  unusual  violence  > 


looting"  the  colonel's  mess-chest. 


328  THE  STORM-CENTER. 

*' Adjutant!"  thundered  the  colonel,  ''have  Company 
Q  formed  at  once,  with  haversacks  and  knapsacks,  and 
march  'em, to  headquarters,  promptly.  Do  not  delay  an 
instant!" 

Shorty,  half  expecting  something  of  this  nature,  had  been 
smart  enough  to  loiter  about  the  colonel's  quarters  to  see 
what  shape  things  would  "take.  He  hurried  back  to  the 
compam-  and  told  Si  to  ''get  shut"  of  his  plunder  as  quick 
as  possible. 

"There's  goin'  ter  be  the  biggest  row  ye  ever  seen!"  he 
said. 

Si  and  Shorty  hastily  took  out  of  their  haversacks  and 
pockets  the  fruits  of  their  pillage.  Their  first  impulse  was 
to  put  them  into  some  other  fellow's  haversack.  They 
agreed,  however,  that  this  would  be  too  mean  a  thing,  and 
they  hurriedly  hid  them  under  a  log. 

They  were  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for  the  order,  "Fall 
in,  Compani^  Q,"  was  already  being  shouted  by  the  orderly. 
The  company  was  marched  to  headquarters  where  the 
colonel  ordered  every  one  to  be  searched,  himself  giving 
personal  attention  to  the  operation.  The  net  result  was 
a  miscellaneous  heap  of  cans  and  bottles  and  boxes  taken 
from  the  persons  of  half  the  men  in  the  company. 

"Ah!  Corporal  Klegg,  I'm  glad  that  none  of  this  stuff 
was  found  on  you!"  said  the  colonel  to  his  "model  soldier," 
in  whose  faithful  and  efficient  performance  of  duty  he  felt 
such  a  kindly  interest.     "I  shall  not  forget  you,  sir." 

Si's  face  became  as  red  as  a  boiled  beet,  but  it  was  grow- 
ing dusk,  and  if  the  colonel  noticed  it  at  all  he  doubtless 
imagined  it  to  be  the  blush  of  pride  at  being  again  so  con- 
spicuously commended.    Si  didn't  say  anything. 

Details  from  Company  Q  did  all  the  hard,  extra  duty  of 
the  regiment  for  a  week.  Thus  was  the  colonel's  wrath 
appeased.  ^. 

Si's  conscience  smote  him  that  night,  and  he  wanted  to 


"all's  well  that  ends  well. 


329 


carry  the  plunder  and  put  it  where  the  coloners  cook 

would  find  it  in  the  morning,  but  Shorty  said  there  was  no 

danger  of  their  being 

found  out  now,  and 

they  might    as   well 

eat  it  up.      So  they 

went  off  among  the 

trees  and   had  their 

**  picnic." 

"Si,"  said  Shorty, 
as  he  took  a  mouth- 
ful of  canned  lob- 
ster, "it's  jest 's  I've 
told  ye  before ;  these 
things  ain't  so  bad 
as  they  •seem,  per- 
vidin'  ye  don't  git 
ketched.  Do  ye  know 
w^har  the  colonel  got 
them  things?" 

"  No  ;  I  s'pose  he 
bought  'em,  didn't 
he  ?"  said  Si,  inno- 
cently. 

"Nary~ti/22e/"  was  ^  nocturnai.  picnic. 

the  reply.     "The  sutler  gUY  *em  to  him  fer  the  priv'lege 
o'  skinnin'  us  boys!" 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Si  Goes  Marching  on  Amidst  Rain  and  Snow,  and  has  His  Patriot- 
ism Severely  Taxed. 

NIGHT  had  cast  her  mantle  over  the  camp  of  the  200th 
Indiana.  The  details  for  guard  and  picket  had 
been  made.  Yidettes,  with  sleepless  eye  and  listening  ear, 
kept  watch  and  ward  on  the  outposts,  while  faithful  sen- 
tries trod  their  beats  around  the  great  encampment.  All 
day  the  army  had  marched,  and  was  to  take  the  road 
again  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning.  Supper  had  been 
eaten,  and  the  tired  soldiers  were  gathered  around  the 
campfires  that  glimmered  far  and  near  through  the  dark- 
ness. 

For  two  or  three  weeks,  since  the  pursuit  of  the  rebels 
was  abandoned,  the  army  had  been  aimlessly  drifting 
about,  marching  and  camping  a  fe\^^  days  by  turns, 
evidently  looking  for  a  place  to  come  to  anchor  until  the 
next  campaign. 

'*Si,"  said  Shorty  to  his  chum,  as  they  sat  on  a  log  be- 
side the  dying  embers,  "how  d'ye  like  soldierin',  as  fur  as 
ye'vegot?" 

"It's  purty  hard  business,"  said  Si,  reflectively,  ''an'  I 
s'pose  we  hain't  seen  the  worst  on  it  yet,  either,  from  what 
I've  heern  tell.  Pity  the  men  that  got  up  this  'ere  war 
can't  be  made  ter  do  all  the  trampin'  'n'  fitin'.  An'  them 
fellers  up  in  old  Injianny  that  come  'round  makin'  sich 
red-hot  speeches  ter  git  us  boys  ter  'list,  wouldn't  it  be  fun 
ter  see  them  a-humpin'  'long  with  gun  'n'  knapsack,  'n' 

330 


A  GOOD  SLEEP  IN  PROSPECT.  331 

chawin'  hardtack,  'n'  stan'in'  guard  nights,  n'  pourin' 
water  on  their  blisters,  'n'pickin' gray  backs  off  their  shirts, 
'n'  p'leecin'  camp,  'n'  washin'  their  own  clothes  ?  " 

''I  think  we'd  enj'y  seein'  em'  do  all  that,"  said  Shorty, 
laughing  at  the  picture  Si  had  drawn.  ''I  reck'n  most  on 
'em  'd  peter  out  purty  quick,  and  I'd  like  ter  hear  what 
sort  o'  speeches  they'd  make  then.  I  tell  jq,  Si,  there's  a 
a  big  diff 'runce  'tween  goin'  yerself  an'  telHn'  some  other 
feller  to  go." 

''Mebbe  they'll  git  ter  graftin'  arter  a  while,"  observed 
Si,  ''  'n'  if  they  do,  I  hope  that'll  ketch  'em !  " 

''Wall,  we're  in  fer  it,  anyway,"  said  Shorty.  ''Let's 
make  down  the  bed  'n'  turn  in  ! " 

It  did  not  take  long  to  complete  the  arrangements  for 
the  night.  They  spread  their  "gum  "  blankets,  or  ponchos, 
on  the  ground,  within  the  tent,  and  on  these  their  wool 
blankets,  placed  their  knapsacks  at  the  head  for  pillows, 
and  that  was  all.  It  was  warmer  than  usual  that  evenins-. 
and  the}^  stripped  down  to  their  nether  garments. 

"Feels  good  once  'n  a  while,"  said  Si,  "to  peel  a  feller's 
clothes  off,  'n'  sleep  in  a  Christian-like  way.  But  Great 
Scott !  Shorty,  ain't  this  ground  lumpy  ?  It's  like  lyin'  on 
a  big  wash-board.  I  scooted  all  over  the  country  huntin' 
fer  straw  to-night.  There  wasn't  but  one  little  stack 
within  a  mile  o'  camp.  Them  durned  Missouri  chaps  gob. 
bled  every  smidgin  of  it.  They  didn't  leave  'nuff  ter 
make  a  hummin'-bird's  nest.  The  200th  Injianny  '11  git 
even  with  'em  some  day." 

Si  and  Shorty  crept  in  between  the  blankets,  drew  the 
top  one  up  to  their  chins,  and  adjusted  their  bodily  protu- 
berances as  best  they  could  to  fit  the  ridges  and  hollows 
beneath  them. 

"Now,  Si,"  said  Shorty,  "don't  ye  git  to  fitin'  rebels  in 
yer  sleep  and  kick  the  kiver  off,  's  ye  did  last  night !  " 

As  they  lay  there  their  ears  caught  the  music  of  the  bu- 
gles sounding  "lights  out,"  or  "taps."     Far  and  near 


332  A   CYCLONIC   DISTURBANCE. 

floated  through  the  clear  night  air  the  familiar  melody  that 
warned  every  soldier  not  on  duty  to  go  to  bed.  Next  to 
the  200th  Indiana  lay  a  regiment  of  wild  Michigan  veter- 
ans, who  struck  up  the  words,  following  the  strains  of  the 
bugles. 

During  the  night 
there    came    one 


11 


S3 


of       those      sudden  gay,     oh  Dutchy,  wm  ye  fight  mit    Si -gel? 

storms  that  seemed , , , 


to  be    sent    bv  an 


inscrutable      Provi-         Zwei  glass  o"  la    -    ger.  Yaw!    Yaw!.'   Yaw!!! 

dence  especiall}^  to 
give  variety  to  the  ^: 


— A N sv -p:] — a — ^'- 

I 1 ^.^ H Nr H Sr-f-^ 1 0- 


^Soldier'slife.   Awell-       ^vin     ye  fight     to  help    cle     bul-ly     ea-gle? 

developed     c^^clone 


struck    the    camp, ^ n — k— j \~X~^ ^  .  #    jT^~1| 

and  Si  and  Shorty    ~^ 


Schweitzer-kase  und  pret-zels,Hurraw I— rauV  baw! 


GO  TO   BED. 


were  soon  awak- 
ened by  the  racket. 
The  wind  was  blowing  and  whirling  in  fierce  gusts,  wrench- 
ing out  the  tent-pins  or  snapping  the  ropes  as  if  they  were 
threads.  Everywhere  was  heard  the  flapping  of  canvas,  and 
the  A'-ells  and  shouts  of  the  men  as  they  dashed  about  in  the 
darkness  and  confusion.  Many  of  the  tents  were  already 
prostrate,  and  their  demoralized  inmates  were  crawling  out 
from  under  the  ruin.  To  crown  all,  the  rain  began  to  fall 
in  torrents.  The  camp  was  a  vast  pandemonium.  The 
blackest  darkness  prevailed,  save  when  the  scene  was  illu- 
mined by  flashes  of  lightning.  These  v^ere  followed  by 
peals  of  thunder  that  made  the  stoutest  quake. 

Si  jumped  at  the  first  alarm.  "Git  up  here,  you  fellers ! " 
he  shouted.  "We'd  better  go  outside  and  grab  the  ropes, 
er  the  hull  shebang  '11  go  over ! " 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  spare.  Si  dashed  out  into 
the  storm  and  darkness,  followed  by  his  comrades.  Seiz- 
ing the  ropes,  some  of  which  were  already  loosened,  they 


BATTLING  WITH  THE  ELEMENTS. 


333 


braced  themselves  and  hung  on  for  dear  life,  in  the  drench- 
ing rain,  their  hair  and  garments  streaming  in  the  wind. 

Their  prompt  action  saved  the  tent  from  the  general 
wreck.  The  fur^-  of  the  storm  soon  abated,  and  Si  and 
his  comrades,  after  driving  the  pins  and  securing  the  ropes, 
re-entered  the  tent,  wet  and  shivering — for  the  mercury  had 
gone  down  with  a  tumble,  or  rather  it  would  have  done  so 
had  they  been  supplied  with  thermometers.  But  their 
scanty  costume  afforded  a  weather  indicator  suffici- 
ently accurate  for 
all  practical  pur- 
poses. 

The  ground  was 
flooded,  and  their 
blankets  and  gar- 
ments were  fast 
absorbing  the 
water  that  flowed 
around  in  such  an 
aggravating  way. 
Sleep  under  such 
conditions  was 
out  of  the  ques- 
tion. The boys put 
on  their  clothes 
and  tried  to  make 
the  best  of  their 
eorry  plight.  a  cyclone  in  camp. 

By  this  time  the  rain  had  nearly  ceased.  Fortunately, 
they  had  laid  in  a  good  stock  of  fuel  in  the  evening,  and 
after  a  little  patient  effort  they  succeeded  in  getting  a  fire 
started.  Around  this  they  hovered,  alternately  warming 
their  calves  and  shins. 

''This  is  a  leetle  more  'n  I  barg'ined  fer,"  said  Si.  Then,: 
taking  a  philosophical  view  of  the  case,  he  added,  **But! 
there's  one  good  thing  about  it.  Shorty,  we'll  be  all  fixed 


334  A  DISMAL  DAY. 

fer  mornin',  'n'  we  won't  have  ter  git  up  when  they  sound 
the  revellee.  The  buglers  kin  jest  bust  theirselves  a-blow- 
in' fer  all  I  keer !  " 

In  this  way  the  soldiers  spent  the  remainder  of  the  night. 
Before  daybreak  the  blast  of  a  hundred  bugles  rang  out, 
but  there  was  little  need  for  the  reveille. 

In  the  gray  dawn  of  that  murky  morning  the  long  column 
went  trailing  on  its  way.  The  weather  gave  promise  of  a 
sloppy  day,  and  the  indications  were  fully  verified.  A  driz- 
zling rain  set  in  and  continued  without  cessation.  The 
boys  put  their  heads  through  the  holes  in  their  ponchos, 
from  the  corners  of  which  the  water  streamed.  With  their 
muskets  at  a  ''secure"  they  splashed  along  through  the 
mud,  hour  after  hour.  In  spite  of  their  ' '  gums, ' '  the  water 
found  its  way  in  at  the  back  of  the  neck  and  trickled  down 
their  bodies.  Their  clothes  became  saturated,  and  they 
were  altogether  about  as  miserable  as  it  is  possible  for 
mortals  to  be. 

It  seemed  to  Si  that  the  maximum  of  discomfort  had 
been  reached.  He  had  experienced  one  thing  after  another 
during  the  few  weeks  since  he  left  home,  and  he  thought 
each  in  turn  was  worse  than,  the  last,  and  about  as  bad  as 
it  could  be.  But  he  learned  a  good  deal  more  before  he 
graduated. 

All  through  the  long,  dreary  day  the  soldiers  plodded  on. 
There  was  little  comfort  to  be  derived  from  the  "rests," 
for  the  ground  was  soaked  with  water. 

''Why  didn't  we  think  of  it,  Shorty,"  said  Si,  '"n'  make 
it  part  o'  the  barg'in  when  we  'listed  that  we  was  ter  have 
umbrellers.  These  gum  things  don't  'mount  ter  shucks, 
nohow,  ter  keep  the  rain  off.  I  sh'd  think  Uncle  Sam  might 
do  that  much  fer  us !  '* 

"I  reckon  our  clothes  '11  be  purty  well  washed  by  the 
time  we  git  out  o'  this  mess,"  said  Shorty. 

''Feels  that  way,"  said  Si ;  "but  how  about  the  bilin'?" 

It  was  nearly  night  when  the  200th,  dripping  and  dis- 


TAKING  THE       TOP  RAIL. 


335 


couraged,  turned  into  a  field  of  standing  corn  to  pass  the 
night.  The  men  sank  to  their  shoe-tops  in  the  soft  earth. 
Si  remarked  to  Shorty  that  he  didn't  see  why  the  officers 
should  turn  them  loose  in  such  a  place  as  that.  But  the 
longer  he  lived  the  more  he  found  out  about  those  things. 
That  was  the  way  they  usually  did. 

In  five  minutes  after  arms  were  stacked  not  a  cornstalk 
remained  standing  in  the  field.  During  the  afternoon  the 
troops  had  gone  over  a  long  stretch  of  swamp  road  that 
was  almost  im- 
passable for  teams. 
Fears  were  enter- 
tained that  the 
wagons  of  the  regi- 
ment would  not  be 
up  that  night,  and 
they  would  not 
have  their  tents  to 
shelter  them  from 
the  weather.  In  an- 
ticipation of  such 
a  calamity  the 
boys  gathered  in 
the  cornstalks,  be- 
lieving that  they 
would  help  out  in 
their  extremity. 

Then    there  was  ^^^  ^o^  '^^  "'^^^  ^^^• 

a  scramble  for  the  fences.  Recognizing  the  need  of  good 
fuel,  an  order  from  the  general  was  filtered  through 
the  various  headquarters  that  the  men  might  take  the 
top  rails,  only,  from  the  fence  enclosing  the  field.  This 
order  was  literally  interpreted  and  carried  out,  each 
man,  successively,  taking  the  ''top  rail"  as  he  found  it. 
The  very  speedy  result  was  that  the  bottom  rails  became 


336 


A  SEVERE  TEST  OF  TEMPER. 


the  *'top,"  and  then  there  weren't  any.     Almost  in  the 

twinkling  of  an  eye  the  entire  fence  disappeared. 
The  drizzle  continued  through  the  evening,  and  by  the 

sputtering  fires  the  soldiers  prepared  and  ate  their  frugal 

suppers. 
Si  was  crouching  over  the  iire  making  coffee  for  himself 

and  his  '  'pard. ' '  After 
much  blowing  of  the 
struggling  flame,  and 
strangling  in  the 
smoke,  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  bringing  it 
to  a  boil,  when  the 
fagots  on  which  the 
kettle  stood  gave  way 


and  it  tipped  over, 
deluging  the  fire  with 
the  coffee  and  send- 
ing up  a  cloud  of 
steam  and  ashes  that 
v^ell-nigh  smothered 
him.  Si  stood  speech- 
less, in  utter  despair. 
He  felt  that  no 
greater  catastrophe 
could  have  befallen 
him.  He  realized,  as  never  before,  the  poverty  of  language 
at  times  of  extreme  provocation. 

''Shorty,"  he  said  sadly,  '4t  makes  me  feel  bad  some- 
times ter  hear  ye  sw^'ar,  but  ther'  can't  nuthin'  else  do  jes- 


SUPPER  UNDER  DIFFICULTIES. 


FIELD  ARCHITECTURE.  337 

tice  ter  this  c'lamity.  Ef  ye'd  say  a  few  o'  them  words, 
seems  ter  me  it  *d  be  kind  o'  soothin'." 

The  idea  of  swearing  for  his  comrade  made  Shorty  laugh 
so  that  he  could  not  have  done  it  if  he  had  wanted  to. 

"The  wust  on  it  is,"  said  Si,  ''I  put  in  the  last  particle 
o*  coffee  we  had,  n'  now  we'll  have  ter  go  'thout.  The 
rest  o'  the  boys  hain't  got  none,  so  we  can't  borry.  This 
's  'bout  the  hardest  row  o'  stumps  't  we've  struck." 

There  was  no  help  for  it,  and  they  were  obliged  to  eat 
what  little  they  had  for  supper  without  the  solace  of  coffee. 

Word  came  that,  as  was  feared,  the  wagons  were  hope- 
lessly stalled  three  or  four  miles  back,  and  the  men  would 
have  to  get  along  as  best  they  could.  The  prospect  was 
dreary  and  cheerless  enough.  It  was  little  wonder  that 
many  of  the  young  Hoosiers  felt  as  if  they  would  rather 
quit  and  go  home.  But  with  that  wonderful  facility  for 
adapting  themselves  to  circumstances  that  marked  the 
volunteer  soldiers,  they  set  about  the  work  of  making  shift 
for  the  night.  No  one  who  has  not  ''been  there"  can  im- 
agine how  good  a  degree  of  comfort — comparatively  speak- 
ing, of  course — ^it  was  possible  to  reach,  even  with  such 
surroundings,  by  the  exercise  of  a  little  patience,  ingenuity 

and  industrv. 

./ 

Si  and  Shorty  and  the  others  of  the  "  mess "  bestirred 
themselves,  and  it  did  not  take  them  long  to  build,  out  of 
rails  and  cornstalks,  a  shelter  that  was  really  inviting. 
Shorty, ^who  was  fertile  in  resource,  directed  the  work  as 
chief  architect.  He  was  ably  seconded  by  Si,  who  engaged 
in  the  enterprise  with  great  ardor.  ' '  I  jest  tell  ye, '  *  he  said, 
viewing  it  with  satisfaction,  "that  ain't  no  slouch  of  a 
shanty!" 

They  kindled  a  big  fire  in  front  of  it,  laid  some  rails 
within,  covered  them  with  stalks,  and  on  these  spread 
their  blankets.  It  was  unquestionably  the  best  that 
could  be  done  under  the  circumstances,  but  as  a  dormi- 
tory it  had  its  drawbacks.    The  rain  continued  to  drizzle 


338 


si's  tongue  loose  again. 


down  during  the  dismal  nigbt,  and  trickled  upon  tlieih 
faces  and  soaked  through  their  blankets  as  they  lay  in 
their  saturated  garments,  under  their  rude  and  imperfect 
shelter.    Wet,  clammy  and  altogether  wretched,  they  passed 

the  long  hours,  and 
were  glad  when 
morning  came.  As 
the  daylight  strug- 
gled through  the 
misty  air,  the  sound 
of  bugles  and  drums 
fell  upon  the  ears  of 
the  soldiers. 

"Don't  see  no  use 
gittin'  up  so  arly 
this  mominV'  said 
Si,  as  Shorty  threw 
off  the  blanket.  "I 
hain't  got  nuthin* 
NO  SLOUCH  OF  A  SHANTY."  fcr    brcakfast,    no- 

how, 'n'  if  'twan't  fer  roll-call  I'  d  jest  lie  here  t'll  time  ter 
start.  The  ord'ly  said  we  wouldn't  git  no  rations  to- 
day. I  feel  mighty  .^^^^^\^^ 
empty,  'n'  I  don't 
quite  see  how  I'm 
goin'  ter  make  the 
riffle.  I  s'pose  I'll 
git  thar  some  way 
er  ruther.  I  heerd 
the  ajitant  tellin' 
the  cap'n  las'  night 
we'd  got  ter  pull 
through  twenty 
miles  'fore  we  got 
ter  the  next  campin'  place.  Looks  t'  me  like  we  was  goin* 
ter  have  a  mighty  tough  row  ter  hoe  today.    Jiminy,  but 


LUBRICATING    OIL   NEEDED. 


A  FAMINE  IMMINENT.  339 

I'm  's  stiff  this  mornin'  's  if  I'd  laid  in  the  starch  all 
night." 

''Wall,  I  reck'n  ye've  got  ter  git  up,"  said  Shorty,  '''n* 
there  ain't  no  use  lyin'  here  growlin'." 

Si's  joints  creaked  as  he  raised  himself,  and  seemed  to  be 
sorely  in  need  of  lubricating  oil. 

**Tell  ye  what,  Shorty,"  he  said,  as  he  tried  to  double 
himself  enough  so  that  he  could  tie  his  shoes,  ''  we'll  have 
ter  bore  some  holes  at  the  j'ints  'n'  carry  'long  an  ile-can 
so  's  we  kin  limber  up  once  'n  awhile.  I  need  greasin'  this 
mornin'  's  bad  's  ever  our  old  waggin  did." 

Shorty  was  more  provident  than  Si.  He  had  saved 
something  over  from  supper  the  night  before,  so  that  he 
might  at  least  partially  fortify  himself  for  the  day's  march. 

''I've  got  a  leetle  left,"  he  said.  " 'Tain't  much,  but  I'll 
go  cahoots  writh  ye.  It  '11  be  a  purty  slim  meal  fer  two, 
but  's  long  's  I've  got  a  cracker  half  on  it's  yourn,  ef  ye 
need  it!" 

"Pard,"  said  Si,  "I  don't  see  how  I'd  git  along  without 
ye.  I'd  do  's  much  fer  you,  only — ye  know,  Shorty — I 
don't  never  have  nuthin'  left." 

This  state  of  destitution  was  universal  throughout  the 
regiment.  Breakfast  was  marked  by  the  most  extreme 
frugality.  The  men  turned  their  haversacks  inside  out 
and  devoured  the  last  crumb  they  contained.  No  miracu- 
lous power  interposed,  as  when  the  five  loaves  and  two 
fishes  were  spread  before  the  multitude  and  they  "ate  and 
were  filled."  Few  indeed  of  the  soldiers  had  a  "trust  in 
Providence"  sufficiently  strong  and  well  defined  to  take 
the  place  of  hardtack. 

With  long,  sour  faces,  and  tempers  sadly  out  of  joint, 
the  men  fell  into  their  places  and  the  column  drew  out. 
The  clouds  hung  heavy  and  dark,  like  great  sponges  from 
which  the  water  oozed  unceasingly.  Everybody  was  in  a 
condition  of  abject  misery.  Every  old  soldier  will  remem- 
ber many  such  days— how  he  went  sloshing  along  through 


'340  PATRIOTISM   HAS  A  RELAPSE. 

the  mire,  with  soaked  and  dripping  garments,  the  water 
squirting  up  inside  his  trousers  legs  at  every  other  step, 
while  the  maddening  drizzle  seemed  gradually  to  extin- 
guish the  fires  of  patriotism  that  before  had  burned  so 
fiercely  in  his  breast.  It  was  so  that  day  with  the  200th 
Indiana.  Their  clothing  -was  saturated,  they  w^ere  be- 
numbed hj  the  cold,  the  Tv^ater  slowly  trickled  from  their 
blue  fingers  and  noses,  and  they  felt  themselves  growing 
sadly  indifferent  as  to  what  fate  might  befall  the  old  flag. 

'^Durned  if  I'm  ever  goin'  ter  love  another  country!" 

It  was  Si  that  said  this.  It  is  true  that  he  did  not  at 
that  time  have  any  patriotic  affection  to  spare  for  be- 
stowal elsewhere.  He  needed  all  he  had  for  immediate 
use.  His  remark  was  a  fair  index  to  the  feeling  that  pre- 
vailed from  front  to  rear  of  that  bedraggled  column.  This 
became  more  marked  when,  soon  after  noon,  there  came 
one  of  those  sudden  changes  so  characteristic  of  the  South 
at  certain  seasons,  and  the  temperature  began  to  fall  rap- 
idly. It  kept  going  down,  below  the  freezing  point,  and 
the  boys  thought  it  never  would  stop.  The  rain  changed 
to  sleet  and  then  to  snow,  while  a  keen  and  bitter  wind 
chilled  the  very  marrow  in  their  bones.  Their  clothes 
were  soon  firozen  and  their  sleeves  and  trousers  legs  were 
like  joints  of  stove-pipe. 

Mile  after  mile,  with  shivering  limbs  and  chattering 
teeth,  hungry  and  forlorn,  the  men  trudged  on  through 
blinding  snow,  facing  the  pitiless  blast.  None  but  those 
who  have  experienced  it  can  realize  the  utter  and  absolute 
wretchedness  of  such  a  situation.  The  hearts  of  many 
who  may  read  this  will  yearn  with  sympathy  and  com- 
passion for  Si  and  Shorty,  and  their  comrades  of  the  200  th 
Indiana. 

Minutes  stretched  into  hours,  and  hours  that  seemed 
interminable  dragged  along  in  slow  procession,  as 
if  they,  too,  were  chilled  and  stiffened.  The  regimental 
flag  had  been  rolled  around  its  staff  and  covered  with  its 


WORSE  AND  MORE  OF  IT.  341 

sheath  of  black.  The  twinkle  of  its  stars  and  the  rustle 
of  its  silken  folds  no  longer  cheered  the  drooping  spirits  of 
those  who  had  sworn  to  follow  and  defend  it. 

"It'll  be  askin'  a  good  deal  of  a  feller  to  love  his  owa 
country,  if  this  sort  o'  thing  keeps  up  much  longer!  "  said 
Corporal  Klegg,  as  a  kind  of  appendix  to  his  former  ob- 
servation. 

When  Si  weakened  there  was  little  hope  for  anybody  else. 
His  exuberant  spirits  did  not  yield  to  ordinary  discourage- 
ments. His  remark  elicited  no  reply,  for  as  the  men 
trudged  along  it  seemed  that  they  didn't  want  to  do  any- 
thing except  commune  with  their  own  thoughts .  But  they 
all  felt  that  Si  had  hit  the  bull's-eye. 

Night  came  on  and  darkness  settled  down  upon  that  band 
of  despondent  patriots .  The  snow  fell  thicker  and  heavier, 
and  already  lay  inches  deep  upon  the  ground.  More  bitter 
and  relentless  blew  the  biting  blast.  There  were  yet  miles 
to  be  traveled  before  reaching  the  place  of  bivouac. 

Two  hours  more  the  column  pulled  itself  along,  and  then 
turned  into  a  field.  The  half-dead  soldiers  set  up  a  strag- 
gling yell,  rather  feeble,  it  is  true,  but  expressive  in  some 
degree  of  the  delight  with  which  they  hailed  the  end  of 
the  toilsome  day's  march.  A  detail  was  immediately  sent 
to  the  town  near  by  for  rations.  The  men  had  eaten  noth- 
ing since  their  scanty  breakfast.  Pending  the  arrival  of 
supplies,  the  soldiers  betook  themselves  to  the  unpromising 
task  of  preparing  for  the  night. 

There  may  be  some  among  those  who  have  formed  the 
acquaintance  and  followed  the  fortunes  of  Si  Klegg  and 
Shorty,  who  have  no  experimental  knowledge  of  ''soldier- 
ing." Let  such,  if  they  can,  imagine  themselves  members 
of  the  200th  Indiana  as  it  broke  ranks  that  night.  Cold, 
hunger  and  fatigue  were  doing  their  work.  Clothes  were 
frozen  stiff.  Icicles  hung  from  the  men's  garments,  the 
rims  of  their  hats  and  their  beards.  The  snow  was  still 
falling,   and  covered  the  ground  ankle  deep.    The  wind 


342 


HARD  LINES. 


blew  fiercely-,  nipping  ears  and  noses  and  fingers  with  its 
frosty  breath.  Could  there  be  a  more  cheerless  and  for- 
bidding prospect  for  a  night's  lodging? 

Fires  were  the  first  thing  thought  of.  Through  the  dark- 
ness and  bhnding  storm  the  m,en  groped  their  way,  seeking 
the  nearest  fences.  No  order  against  depredations  would 
have  been  observed  that  night,  though  it  came  from  a  gen- 
eral with  all  the  stars  in  the  firmament  upon  his  shoulder- 
straps. 
Back  with  their  burdens  of  fuel  came  the  men,  and  in 

a  few  moments  the 
kindling  flames  be- 
gan to  glimmer 
feebly  through  the 
darkness.  Soon 
great  heaps  of  rails 
were  all  ablaze. 
Around  them,  in 
ghostly  array,  hov- 
ered the  shivering 
soldiers,  eager  to 
catch  the  warmth 
that  was  given  out 
by  the  now  roaring 
fires.  Ah,  who  does 
not  remember  what 
a  blessed  privilege  it 
A  POLAR  EXPERIENCE.  ^^s  at  such  a  timc 

to  stand  before  those  burning  piles !    How  thankful  those 
half-frozen  Hoosiers  were  for  even  thus  much  of  comfort! 

Si's  elastic  spirits  were  among  the  first  to  rise  under  the 
genial  warmth  that  was  gradually  diffused,  in  spite  of 
wind  and  snow. 

"Let's  brace  up,  Shorty,"  he  said,  as  he  stood  warming 
first  one  side  and  then  the  other,  while  the  steam  from  his 
thawing  clothes  enveloped  him  like  a  cloud  of  incense.   **  It's 


SI  WANTS    ro  MURDER  THE  ORDERLY.      '  343 

a  good  deal  wuss  'n  we  thought  'twould  be  this  irtornin', 
but  we're  livin'  yet,  and  I  reck'n  after  what  we've  been, 
through  ter  day  we  kin  stand  anything.  We're  goin'  ter 
git  some  rations  d'reckly,  'n'  we  won't  have  ter  go  off 
huntin'  fer  water,  nuther,  'cause  we  kin  jest  melt  snow  to 
make  coffee  of.  By  that  time  mebbe  the  waggins  '11  be  up, 
'n'  we'll  scrape  away  the  snow,  'n'  stick  up  the  tent,  'n' 
build  a  big  fire  'n  front  of  it,  'n'  have  a  bully  time !  " 

Shorty  did  not  fully  share  Si's  enthusiasm  over  the  pros- 
pect, but  cheerfully  stirred  around  to  assist  in  doing  what 
they  could.  Si  felt  that  in  the  experience  of  that  day  they 
had  touched  bottom.  He  did  not  think  it  possible  to  reach 
any  lower  point  in  the  scale  of  human  misery.  But  there 
were  yet  greater  depths  which  he  and  Shorty  and  the  rest 
were  very  soon  to  fathom. 

** Company  Q,  get  ready  to  go  on  picket  immediately!  '* 

This  cheerful  command  was  shouted  by  the  orderly,  on 
receiving  a  message  from  the  sergeant-major  that  it  was 
Company  Q's  ''turn."  The  sergeant-major  did  not  linger 
around  among  the  boys  of  that  company.  He  went 
back  to  his  quarters  in  a  hurry,  as  if  in  mortal  fear  of  his 
life. 

**  Git  yer  traps  on,  men,  an'  fall  in,  lively ! ''  exclaimed  the 
orderly. 

' '  We  hain't  had  nuthin'  to  eat  yet ! ' '  said  Corporal  Klegg, 
aghast  at  the  prospect  of  continuing  his  fast ;  ''can't  we 
hold  on  t'U  the  grub  comes  ?  " 

"We're  all  jest  as  hungry  as  you  be,  Mr.  Klegg,"  replied 
the  orderly,  "but  we've  got  to  go  all  the  same,  an'  there's 
no  use  in  kickin'.  You  git  in  yer  place  as  sudden  as  ye 
can." 

"Shorty,  I  don't  b'lieve  it  'd  be  very  wicked  to  kill  the 
ord'ly,  would  it?"  said  Si,  who  thought  it  might  be  con- 
sidered justifiable  homicide. 

"Mebbe  not,"  replied  his  comrade,  "but  'twouldn't  do 
no  good  'cause  they'd  'pint 'nother  one  right  away.   'Sides, 


344  ON  PICKET  IN  THE  SNOW. 

ye  ought  to  'member  't  he  ain't  ter  blame.  The  sargent- 
major  's  the  man  ye're  after." 

It  was  hard  lines  for  the  boys,  but  there  was  no  help  for 
it.  With  much  grumbling,  and  with  longing  glances  at  the 
cheerful  fires,  they  marched  away  in  the  darkness.  The 
company  was  ordered  to  establish  its  reserve  on  the  pike, 
a  mile  from  camp,  posting  its  videttes  at  proper  points  on 
either  side. 

Through  the  deepening  snow  chey  moved  to  their  station. 
The  biting  cold  and  the  piercing  blast  took  a  fresh  grip 
upon  them.  After  the  grateful  warmth  of  the  blazing  rail- 
piles  it  was  even  more  keenly  felt  than  before.  Scarcely  a 
word  was  spoken  as  they  traversed  that  dreary  mile.  A 
haystack  near  the  pike  was  chosen  for  the  headquarters, 
and  sentinels  were  thrown  out  in  front  and  on  either  flank 
within  hailing  distance. 

Those  upon  the  reserve  began  casting  about  to  see  if 
anjrthing  could  be  done  in  the  way  of  making  themselves 
in  any  measure  comfortable.  Si  proposed  to  build  a  fire 
and  began  operations  in  that  direction,  but  the  scheme  was 
promptly  knocked  in  the  head  by  the  captain,  who  told 
him  he  had  been  in  the  service  long  enough  to  know  that 
fires  were  never  permitted  on  the  picket-line  at  night,  under 
any  circumstances.  Si  made  no  reply  to  the  captain,  but  he 
told  Shorty  that  he  thought  such  a  night  as  that  ought  to 
be  an  exception  to  any  rule  that  ever  was  made. 

A  shelter  from  the  storm  was  made  by  leaning  rails 
against  the  sides  of  the  stack  and  covering  them  with  hay. 
More  hay  was  placed  upon  the  ground  within,  after  the 
snow  had  been  scraped  away,  and  upon  this  the  men  threw 
themselves,  more  dead  than  alive. 

It  was  a  long,  long  night.  Minutes  seemed  hours  as  they 
slowly  dragged  away.  Chilled  and  benumbed  through 
and  through  by  the  cold,  now  and  then  taking  a  turn  out- 
side to  keep  their  joints  in  working  condition,  the  men 
shivered  and  waited  for  the  dawn. 


A  LONG  NIGHT.  345 

Si  and  Shorty  covered  themselves  with  hay  and  hugged 
each  other  affectionately,  in  the  vain  hope  of  generating  a 
little  warmth,  but  they  were  like  two  blocks  of  ice  packed 
in  an  ice-house.  Their  clothing  actually  froze  together,  so 
that  when  they  were  called  to  go  on  duty  it  required  no 
little  effort  to  get  themselves  separated  and  find  out  how 
much  of  the  heap  was  Si  and  how  much  was  Shorty. 

''Seems  to  me  there  ain't  much  glory  in  dyin'  here  in  the 
snow,"  said  Si.  "If  we  gits  killedinafight,  that's  all  right; 
it's  what  we  'listed  fer.  But  them  speechifyers  't  come 
round  didn't  say  nothin'  'bout  freezln'  to  death,  'n'l  don't 
see  a  bit  o'  fun  in  it,  nuther." 

"Keep  up  yer  Ebenezer,  Si,"  said  Shorty,  through  his 
chattering  teeth.  "  YeVe  wuth  mor  'n  half  a  dozen  corpses 
yet.  It's  purty  tough,  but  ye'll  be  'live  'n'  kickin'  termor^ 
rer,  jest  the  same." 

Shorty  had  to  go  out  and  take  his  "trick"  as  vidette, 
and  Corporal  Klegg  went  with  the  squad  to  relieve  a  por- 
tion of  the  line. 

"Good-by,  Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  he  left  his  pard  stand- 
ing in  a  fence  comer ;  "keep  a  stiff  upper  lip." 

"Upper  lip  's  purty  near  froze  stiff  now,  'n'  I  guess  there 
won't  be  much  trouble  'n  keepin'  it  that  way  while  I'm  on 
post." 

"Ye'll  have  ter  keep  movin'  'round,"  said  the  man  whom 
Shorty  had  relieved,  "er  the  next  relief  '11  find yefriz solid!'* 
At  the  pike  Si  found  a  forlorn  citizen  who  was  pleading 
for  permission  to  pass  through  the  lines  to  his  house,  a  short 
distance  beyond.  Si  promptly  took  him  in  charge  and 
marched  him  to  the  haystack.  He  was  shaking  with  the 
cold,  and  begged  piteously  that  the  captain  would  let  him 
go  home.  The  officer  told  him  his  orders  were  imperative 
to  pass  no  one,  and  he  would  have  to  be  held  till  morning. 
He  placed  him  in  charge  of  Si  for  safe  keeping.  He  crawled 
in  upon  the  hay,  and  Si  felt  a  fiendish  delight  in  listening  to 
his  groans  and  curses. 


•j46  warmed  and  filled. 

Morning  came  at  length.  At  the  first  streak  of  dawn 
everybody  turned  out  and  gathered  around  a  heap  of  rails 
and  hay  that  had  been  made  ready. 

"  Who 's  got  a  match  ?  "  shouted  Si,  cheerily.  **Mine  's 
all  wet  'n'  they  won't  go !  " 

All  the  matches  in  the  party  were  found  to  be  in  the  same 
useless  condition.  It  was  necessary  to  send  a  man  to  the 
nearest  house,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  before  a  fire  could 
be  started.  Then  in  a  moment  the  pile  was  ablaze,  and 
never  was  cheerful  warmth  more  v^elcome. 

The  members  of  Company  Q  gradually  thawed  them- 
selves out,  and  then  came  a  realizing  sense  of  the  fact  that 
they  had  eaten  nothing  for  twenty-four  hours.  They  felt 
that  their  situation  was  really  growing  desperate.  Day- 
light revealed  a  barn  not  far  away,  and  thither  v^ent  a  de- 
tachment of  foragers.  A  *' razor-back "  pig  was  found 
w^hich,  by  some  miraculous  intervention,  had  thus  far 
escaped  the  ravages  of  war.  A  bayonet  was  instantly 
plunged  through  the  animal's  vitals,  and  he  was  borne  off 
in  triumph.  Half  a  bushel  of  frozen  apples  completed  the 
results  of  the  foray.  On  these  and  fresh  pork  the  soldiers 
breakfasted.  Two  hours  later  they  were  relieved  by  an- 
other company  and  returned  to  camp,  where  they  found 
awaiting  them  an  abundant  supply  of  hardtack,  bacon 
and  coffee. 

*'Feel  's  though  I  c'd  git  away  'th  a  pile  o'  this  stuff," 
said  Si,  as  he  and  Shorty  sat  upon  a  rail  with  a  kettle  of 
steaming  coffee,  a  dozen  slices  of  toasted  bacon,  and  a  pile 
of  crackers  before  them.  ''I've  got  a  mighty  big  hole  ter 
fill  up,  'n'  I  ain't  goin'  ter  quit  till  she's  full,  nuther ! "  And 
he  didn't. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Si  has  His  First  Interview  With  the  Paymaster,  and  is  BeguHvED 
INTO  THE  Uncertain  Game  of  "Chuck-a-luck." 

4 4^^ AY,  Shorty,  have  ye  heerd  the  news?"  said  Cor- 

>,J  poral  Klegg  one  morning,  as  he  came  back  from 
the  spring  with  a  couple  of  canteens  of  water  for  break- 
fast. Shorty  w^as  toasting  some  strips  of  swine's  flesh  on 
the  end  of  a  ramrod,  his  comrade's  function  being  to  make 
the  coffee.  Si  had  come  up  on  a  run,  with  a  smile  that  ex- 
panded over  every  part  of  his  round  face,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  he  w^as  the  bearer  of  good  tidings. 

''What's  up  now?"  asked  Shorty,  as  he  blew  out  the 
blaze  that  w-as  too  rapidly  consuming  the  bacon. 

''Goin'  ter  git  paid  off  to-day!  Bill  Jinkins  told  me 
down  ter  the  spring  't  he  heerd  the  cap'n  say  so  ter  the 
ord'ly.  I  come  's  quick  's  ever  I  could  ter  tell  ye,  'cause  I 
knowed  ye'd  be  glad  ter  hear  it." 

Si  sat  down  on  a  log  to  recover  his  wind,  and  think 
about  what  he  would  do  with  all  the  money  he  was  going 
to  get. 

''Tell  ye  w^hat.  Shorty,"  he  said,  "I'll  feel  kind  o'  proud- 
like  ter  send  some  money  home,  though  I  don't  'spose 
they're  sufferin'  ferit.  Dad  said  when  I  'listed  he'd  have 
ter  hire  some  feller  t'  w^ork  'n  my  place,  but  I  reck'n  he's 
able  ter  pay  him.  I'm  goin'  ter  send  five  dollars  apiece  ter 
mother  'n'  sister  Marier  jest  fer  a  present,  so  they'll  know 
I  don't  forgit  'em.  Then  I  want  ter  send  another  fiver,  er 
♦  347 


348  CHRONIC  INSOLVENCY. 

a  ten-spot" — here  Si  checked  his  tongue  and  finished  the 
sentence  in  his  thoughts,  for  he  didn't  dare  tell  it  even  to 
Shorty— '^fer  Annabel.  I'd  git  suthin  purty  'n'  send  to 
her  'f  I  could,  but  the  sutler  hain't  got  nothin'  o'  that 
kind,  'n'  if  he  had  he'd  charge  me  fifteen  times  too  much. 
So  I'll  jest  send  her  an  X,  'n'  tell  her  ter  git  a  nice  ring  er 
suthin  ter  remember  me  by.  There's  no  tellin'  but  this  '11 
be  the  last  chance  I'll  ever  have !  " 

Shorty  laughed  as  he  read  Si's  thoughts.  '' Better  wait, " 
he  said,  "  'n'  see  how  much  ye  git.  Don't  count  yer  chickens 
t'll  after  they's  hatched !  " 

For  some  time  Si  and  Shorty  had  been  financially  insolv- 
ent. Their  liabilities — all  to  the  sutler — were  an  unknown 
quantity,  and  their  assets  could  have  been  expressed  by  a 
single  cipher.  They  had  shown  the  same  reckless  disre- 
gard of  expense  that  characterized  all  the  new  troops,  and 
what  money  they  brought  from  home  had  rapidly  found 
its  way  into  the  cash-box  of  the  ''skinner."  Si's  empty 
pocket-book  was  a  source  of  serious  alarm  to  him  until 
Shorty  told  him  that  he  could  get  ''checks  "  of  the  sutler 
"on  tick,"  to  be  paid  for  the  first  pay-day.  Si  thought 
the  sutler  was  very  kind  to  "trust "  the  boys.  Every  day 
or  two  he  bought  "another  dollar's  worth  o'  checks, 
please,"  and  they  w^ere  duly  charged  up  to  him.  In  this 
wa^^  the  pickles  and  cheese  and  canned  peaches  did  not 
seem  to  cost  an;)i:hing,  and  he  was  lavish  in  his  invest- 
ments, without  a  thought  of  the  day  of  reckoning. 

But  it  was  a  happy  time  for  them  when  the  paymaster 
came.  It  did  not  occur  to  Si  to  figure  up  how  much  he 
would  get,  nor  had  he  any  idea  what  amount  he  owed 
the  sutler. 

"I  don't  need  ter  pay  him  this  time  fer  all  them  checks," 
he  said,  "he  kin  jest  's  well  v^ait  t'll  next  time  fer  part  on 
it." 

"Ye  kin  bet  the  skinner  don't  git  left!"  replied  Shorty. 
"The  paymaster  stands  in  with  him  ^t\^  snatches  ye  bald- 


THE  paymaster's  VISITS.  349 

headed;  he  takes  right  out  o'  yer  pay  's  much  's  the  skin- 
ner says,  'n'  that  settles  it.    Ye  can't  help  yerself." 

Si  and  Shorty  had  pooled  their  resources  while  they 
lasted,  for  their  mutual  advantage,  but  the  last  five-cent 
scrip  had  disappeared. 

''I've  fergot  how  money  looks,"  said  Shorty.  ''Ef  this 
'ere  hull  camp  was  sellin'  fer  a  dime  shinpl  aster,  I  couldn't 
buy  a  tent-pin.  *  I  reck'n  w^e  ain't  goin'  ter  git  enough  to 
hurt  us  any.  A  feller  don't  git  rich  very  fast  on  thirteen 
dollars  a  month.  Then,  ye  know,  the  sutler  '11  git  the  fust 
grab  at  it,  to  pay  fer  all  them  checks  we've  been  havin'  of 
him.    What  thar '11  be  left  won't  scare  ye !" 

Si  hadn't  thought  of  this.  When  he  brought  his  mind  to 
bear  upon  the  cold  facts  he  realized  their  truth,  and  it  re- 
duced several  degrees  the  temperature  of  his  enthusiasm* 

''Guess  you're  right,  Shorty,"  he  said,  and  then  added, 
philosophically,  "but  it'll  be  jest  's  good  's  a  mint  's  long 
as  it  lasts.  When  it's  gone  we  kin  go  to  buyin'  checks 
agin." 

Theoretically,  the  money  purveyor  came  around  once  in 
two  months,  and  the  muster-rolls  for  payment  were 
made  out  covering  that  period.  But  the  paymaster,  al- 
though he  always  wore  a  gorgeous  uniform  and  put  on 
more  style  than  the  general  commanding,  was  not  a 
fighter.  When  there  was  danger  of  hearing  bullets  whistle 
he  kept  well  to  the  rear.  The  exigencies  of  active  service 
not  infrequently  delayed  getting  "paid  off"  for  four  or  six 
months  at  a  time.  " Chuck- a-luck,"  "Honest  John,"  and 
other  curious  and  exciting  games,  that  the  boys  engaged 
in  when  they  were  "flush,"  languished,  and  for  the  time 
almost  disappeared.  The  possession  of  cash  became  a 
matter  of  tradition.  At  length,  when  all  was  quiet  at  the 
front,  the  paymaster  would  slip  up,  unlock  his  box,  and 
feed  the  boys  with  a  half  year's  rations.  For  a  few  days 
everybody  rolled  in  wealth. 

The  200th  Indiana  had  not  yet  been  two  months  in  ser- 


350 


HAPPY  HOOSIERS. 


vice,  but  at  the  first  regulation  pay-day  its  account  was 
to  be  settled  up  to  that  time,  so  that  it  might  start  even 
on  the  next  bi-monthly  period. 

Early  in  the  day  the  regiment  went  through  the  cere- 
mony of  being  mustered  for  pay.  The  paymaster — with 
shoulder-straps  and  brass  buttons  that  shone  as  if 
they  were  right  from  the  foundry,  and  with  that  swell- 
ing air  of  importance  that  is  always  assumed  by  a  man 
who  handles  and  pays  out  large  amounts  of  money— occu- 
pied a  tent  at  regi- 
mental headquar- 
ters, surrounded  by 
a  cordon  of  guards 
with  bristling  bay- 
onets. 

Each  company 
in  turn  was  march- 
ed up  to  the  tent. 
The  men  were  at 
their  best.  They 
had  brushed  their 
clothes,  washed 
their  faces  and 
combed  their  hair 
in  honor  of  such  an 
important  and  rare 
occasion.  The  pay- 
master was  the  big- 
gest man  in  camp  that  day,  and  the  next  in  size  was  his  fussy 
clerk.  The  sutler,  who  was  the  chief  beneficiary  of  the 
paymaster's  visit,  was  on  hand  with  his  accounts  against 
the  men  for  the  checks  they  had  got  since  their  funds  ran 
out.  If  two  or  three  dollars  apiece  were  charged  up  all 
around  for  checks  they  never  had,  few  of  them  were  any 
the  wiser,  and  it  was  so  much  more  clear  profit  for  the 
sutler. 


PAYING  OFF.' 


THE  OFFICERS 


'  i'^"«»  ^51 


The  clerk  called  the  expectant  patriots  one  by  one  from 
the  rolls,  showed  each  man  where  to  sign  his  name,  and 
swore  volubly  at  those  who  couldn't  write  as  fast  as  he 
could.  When  a  man  succeeded  in  getting  his  autograph 
on  the  wrong  line,  the  clerk  fired  a  sulphurous  volley  at 
him  that  made  him  turn  pale  with  fear.  Then  the  clerk 
figured  out  the  amount  due  him,  after  deducting  the  claim 
of  the  sutler,  and  the  paymaster  counted  it  out  in  crisp, 
crackling  bills  and  scrip.  With  a  bow  and  an  involuntary 
''Thank'ee,  sir!"  he  received  his  money  and  turned  away, 
an  object  of  supreme  envy,  for  the  moment,  to  those  whose 
names  began  with  W  and  Y  and  were  therefore  at  the  end 
of  the  roll. 

*  *  Attention,  Company  Q ! " 

The  boys  had  been  standing  in  line  half  an  hour,  waiting 
to  be  summoned  into  the  solemn  and  awful  presence  of 
the  paymaster.  They  responded  briskly  as  these  words 
of  command  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  orderly.  A  moment 
later  the  company  stood,  carefully  right-dressed,  in  front 
of  the  pay-tent.  The  captain  and  the  lieutenants  were 
first  attended  to.  For  their  six  or  seven  weeks  of  service 
they  got  about  two  hundred  dollars  apiece.  Si  thought 
the  nimble  fingers  of  the  paymaster  would  never  get 
through  counting  out  the  ten-dollar  bills  to  them.  He 
was  a  little  deficient  in  mathematics,  but  he  had  a  vague 
notion  that  it  wouldn't  take  quite  as  long  to  count  out 
bis  money  as  it  did  the  captain's. 

The  orderly  came  next  on  the  roll  after  the  officers. 
Si  noticed  that  there  was  a  very  sudden  shrinkage  in  the 
size  of  the  ''pile."  The  captain  and  the  lieutenants  got 
whole  handfuls  of  bills,  that  made  their  pockets  bulge  out 
like  the  bay-windows  of  a  house,  when  they  stowed  them 
away.  Two  or  three  spry  flips  of  the  paymaster's  fingers 
quickly  made  up  the  thin  parcel  that  was  handed  to  the 
orderly  as  his  stipend— and  Si  supposed  that  be  got  a  good 
deal  more  pay  than  a  corporal. 


352        CORPORAL  KLEGG  AND  THE  CLERK. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  go  through  the  sergeants  and 
then  the  clerk  struck  the  corporals.  Although  Si  Klegg's 
name  was  at  the  end  of  the  list — as  he  was  only  eighth 
corporal — his  heart  throbbed  with  pleasurable  emotions 
at  the  thought  that  his  impoverished  condition  would  be 
relieved  several  minutes  sooner  than  if  he  was  a  poor  pri- 
vate, and  his  name  was  away  down  among  the  IC's. 

''Corporal  Josiah  Klegg!"  at  last  called  out  the  clerk. 

Si  took  off  his  hat,  put  it  under  his  arm,  and  walked 
shyly  up,  with  a  scared  look  on  his  face,  to  the  table  on 
which  the  financial  business  was  being  transacted.  On 
the  other  side  of  it  sat  the  paymaster,  overpowering  in  his 
dignity,  with  his  big  tin  box  full  of  money.  Next  to  him 
was  the  fidgety  clerk,  and  at  one  end  of  the  table  that  man 
of  gall  and  iron-plated  cheek,  the  sutler. 

*'Take  this  pen  and  sign  yer  name  there,"  said  the  clerk, 
indicating  the  place  with  the  tip  of  the  holder. 

''On  this  line?"  asked  Si. 

"Yes,  right  there  where  I  told  ye!"  replied  the  clerk, 
with  a  flavor  of  mustard  and  pepper  in  his  voice. 

Si  carefully  dipped  the  pen  in  the  ink-bottle  and,  in  doing 
so,  lost  the  line  on  the  muster-roll.  The  roll  was  nearly  as 
large  as  a  barn-door,  and  it  was  almost  necessary  for  one 
to  have  a  chart  and  compass  in  order  to  keep  his  bearings 
on  its  broad  expanse  and  among  its  multitudinous  col- 
umns. 

"Which  line?"  asked  Si,  timidly,  for  he  saw  indications 
of  a  storm  on  the  face  of  the  impatient  clerk. 

"Why,  there  !    Haven't  ye  got  any  eyes  in  yer  head  ?" 

"Oh,  this  'ere  's  the  one  ye  mean?"  said  Si,  putting  his 
finger  dow^n  in  such  a  way  as  to  cover  two  or  three  adja- 
cent lines. 

Then  he  seized  the  pen  with  a  grip  like  the  claws  of  a 
lobster,  screwed  up  his  mouth,  and  began  to  build  a  J. 
Some  of  the  corporals  not  being  present  there  were  va- 
cant lines,  and  Si  managed,  after  all,  to  start  in  wrong. 


SI  REINFORCED   BY  THE   COLONEL.  35S 

*'That  ain't  the  place!"  said  the  clerk,  snappishly. 
^'How  nian3^  times  have  I  got  to  tell  3'e?''  And  he  vi- 
ciousl}^  stabbed  his  pencil  through  the  paper  at  the  right 
spot.  ''If  all  of  Company  Q  are  as  slow  as  you  we  won't 
get  'em  paid  off  in  a  week.    Now  hustle,  you — '^ 

"Gently,  gentl}^,  there!"  interrupted  the  colonel,  who 
was  sitting  in  the  tent  exercising  a  fatherly  supervision 
over  the  operations.  ''Have  a  little  patience  with  Cor- 
poral Klegg.  Perhaps  he  ain't  as  smart  as  j^ou  are  \\4th 
a  pen,  but  he  is  one  of  my  best  soldiers,  and  I'm  not  going 
to  have  him  abused."  Then,  turning  to  Si,  he  added: 
*' Start  right,  Corporal,  and  then  just  go  ahead  and  sign 
your  name." 

Si  blushed  at  the  colonel's  compliment,  and  w^as  reas- 
sured by  knowing  that  he  had  such  good  backing.  For 
an  instant  he  felt  that  he  would  like  to  have  the  paymas- 
ter's clerk  out  back  of  the  tent  for  a  few  minutes,  and  he 
would  polish  him  off  so  thoroughly  that  they  would  have 
to  carry  him  to  the  hospital  on  a  stretcher.  He  was 
tempted  to  give  the  clerk  a  piece  of  his  mind,  but  was 
afraid  that  if  he  did  he  wouldn't  get  his  money.  So  he 
pocketed  his  wrath,  mentally  resolving  that  he  would  lie 
low  for  the  clerk  that  night  and  try  and  get  a  chance  to 
"punch  his  head." 

Once  more  applying  himself  to  his  task,  he  had,  after  muck 
labor,  finished   "Josiah,  ^ 

when  he  heard  the  clerk  ^  v/*V 

figuring  out  the  amount 
due  him. 

"  Let's  see,"  mused  the 
clerk,    "one    month    and  ms  autograph. 

sixteen  days.    One  month  is  thirteen  dollars,  and — " 

"How  much  did  ye  say?"  asked  Si,  as  he  stopped  and 
looked  at  the  clerk  with  astonishment. 

"I  said  one  month  was  thirteen  dollars,"  replied  the 


i^<^ 


354  A  MANIFEST  INJUSTICE. 

testy   clerk.  *     *'  Don't    interrupt    me  again,   sir,   if  yoA 
please  I  " 

''But— but  don't — c-corporils— git  anj^— more 'n  thatT 
That's  same  's— privits!  " 

''Thirteen  dollars  a  month,  sir !  "  and  the  clerk  took  up 
the  thread  of  his  calculation .  ' '  Sixteen  days  at  forty-three 
and  one- third  cents  a  day  is— 6  times  3  's  18 ;  6  times  4  's 
24  V  1  's  25 ;  5  'n'  3  's  8 ;  4  'n'  2  s  6—6.88, 1/3 of  16  's  5V3, 
makes  six  dollars  n'  ninety-three  'n'  one-third  cents.  We'll 
have  to  dock  the  third  of  a  cent,  'cause  the  government 
can't  afford  to  give  ye  the  other  two-thirds.  Add  thirteen 
for  one  month,  whole  amount 's  nineteen  dollars  'n'  ninety- 
three  cents.    How  much  does  this  man  owe  ye,  Mr.  Sutler?'* 

"Eight  dollars  fifty,"  was  the  prompt  answer. 

"All  right ;  subtract  eight  fifty,  leaves  eleven  forty-three. 
That's  right,  major!" 

Si  had  felt  some  inclination  to  continue  the  argument 
vsrith  the  clerk.  It  seemed  to  him  a  glaring  inconsistency 
to  pay  a  man  with  stripes  on  his  arms  no  more  than  a 
private.  But  he  realized  that  debate  would  be  useless.  So 
while  the  clerk  was  engaged  in  his  mathematics  Si  finished 
his  autograph.  Then,  almost  before  he  could  think,  the 
paymaster  whisked  upon  the  table  two  five-dollar  bills,  a 
one-dollar,  four  ten-cent  scrips  and  three  pennies. 

The  government  started  out  to  pay  the  soldiers  in  gold 
and  silver.  But  the  specie  ran  out  in  less  than  a  year,  and 
money  that  "chinked"  was  not  again  seen  during  the  war 
—except  by  those  who  bought  United  States  bonds,  and 
clipped  off  their  coupons  at  stated  intervals.  Greenbacks, 
at  a  discount  of  from  twenty  to  sixty  per  cent.,  were  con- 
sidered good  enough  for  the  soldiers.    Patriotism  was  ex- 

*  In  the  infantry  arm  of  the  service  corporals  received  the  same  pay  as 
privates  until  May,  1864.  Then  the  pay  of  privates  was  increased  to 
sixteen  dollars  per  month,  and  the  valor  and  efficient  services  of  such 
men  as  Corporal  Klegg  were  recognized  by  fixing  the  pay  of  that  grade 
at  eighteen  dollars  per  month. 


A  FINANCIAL  DISAPPOINTMENT. 


355 


pected  to  supply  the  deficiency.  Fractional  parts  of  a 
dollar  were  issued  in  the  form  of  scrip —  "  shinplasters '" 
the  soldiers  called  them. 

''Next!"  said  the  clerk,  as  he  began  to  call  up  the  privates. 

Si  picked  up  the  money  and  walked  slowly  away.  H6 
felt  as  though  something  had  struck  him— he  hardly  knew 
what.  A  misty  idea  floated  through  his  brain  that  in  some 
way  he  had  **got  left."  It  is  true  that  as  compared  with 
his  previous  indigent  condition  he  felt  now  as  if  he  owned 
a  bank,  but  still  the  thought  that  he  had  not  been  fairly 
treated  by  the  government  he  had  tried  to  serve  so 
faithfully,  caused  a  tem-  —  _ 
porary  depression  of 
spirits.  He  went  off  by , ^^ 
himself,  sat  down  be- 
hind a  tree,  and  went  ^ 
into  executive  session. 

"  *Leven  dollars  'n' 
forty -three  cents,  "  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  counted 
it  over,  "fer  nigh  'bout 
two  months  of  a  mighty 
sight  harder  work  'n  I 
ever  done  on  the  old 
farm.  Choppin'  wood 
*n'  hoein'  corn  'n'  hayin' 
ain't  a  patchin'  to  it. 
It's  purty  small  pay 
fer  all  this  drillin'  'n' 
marchin'  'n'stan'in'  picket  'n  the  rain  *n'  lyin"round  'n  the 
mud.  'Leven  dollars  'n'  forty-three  cents !  An'  that  pesk^ 
old  sutler;  he  looked  jest  as  if  he  was  sorry  he  couldn't  grab 
the  rest  on  it.  I'll  never  buy  'nother  thing  of  the  skinner 
's  long  's,  I'm  in  the  sarvice ! " 

This  was  a  rash  thing  to  say,  but  it  is  what  the  boys  al- 
ways  said.     And   two  hours  later  they  would  swarm' 


'leyen  dollars  'n'  forty-three 

cents!" 


356  SI  MUSES  OYER  IT. 

around  the  sutler's  ''shebang"  like  flies  around  a  molasses 
barrel. 

The  sutler's  figures  had  fairly  staggered  Si.  He  knew  he 
had  bought  a  few  checks  now  and  then,  but  he  could  not 
remember  half  that  amount.  He  had  not  kept  any  account, 
but  somehow  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  sutler  and  the  pay- 
master, who  had  even  clipped  off  that  third  of  a  cent,  were 
like  the  two  jaws  of  a  vise,  and  between  them  they  had 
squeezed  him  pretty  hard. 

It  was  a  deep  humiliation  to  Si  to  find  that  he  got  no 
more  pay  than  a  private.  He  really  felt  that  the  extra 
mental  and  physical  wear  and  tear  caused  by  the  arduous 
duties  and  responsibilities  of  a  corporal,  ought  to  be  recom- 
pensed by  several  dollars  a  month  additional.  He  did  not 
know,  until  he  found  out  by  experience,  that  the  glory  of 
a  soldier's  first  promotion  was  considered  to  be  an  ample 
equivalent  for  all  official  requirements.  But  before  Si  had 
succeeded  in  adjusting  his  feelings  to  this  view  of  the  case 
he  was  more  than  half  inclined  to  try  and  organize  among 
the  corporals  a  strike  for  higher  wages,  in  the  hope  of  secur- 
ing justice. 

Si  was  soon  joined  by  Shorty,  who,  after  getting  his 
money,  hunted  up  his  comrade.  It  was  a  sort  of  holiday' 
in  camp,  in  view  of  the  extraordinary  nature  of  the  occa- 
sion. 

"How  much  'd  ye  git,  Shorty?"  asked  Si,  as  his  **pard" 
sat  down  beside  him. 

'"Bout  the  same's  you  did." 

" 'Tain't  very  hefty,  is  it?" 

"I  sh'd  ruther  say  not,"  replied  Shorty;  "but  it's  's 
much  's  I  thought  there  'd  be  after  the  sutler  'd  had  bis 
grab." 

"Wall,  it's  all  right,"  said  Si,  whose  elastic  spirits  soon 
rebounded  to  their  natural  level;  "we  ain't  doin'  all  this 
catin'  hardtack  'n'  trampin'  'round  fer  fun  nor  fer  money. 
As  fur  's  that  goes,  1  wouldn't  do  it  fer  all  a  jigadier-brin- 


••CHUCK-A-LUCK."  357 

die  gits.  1  'spose  it's  what  the  spouters  calls  patri'tism. 
You  'n'  me  *s  goin'  ter  stick  to  this  thing,  anyhow,  t'll  we 
gits  them  rebils  licked  out  o'  their  boots.  But  say,  Shorty, 
I'd  like  ter  git  a  good  crack  at  that  'ere  snappin'-turtleof  a 
clerk  't  the  paymaster  has  ter  do  his  figgerin'.  He'd  think 
he'd  bin  kicked  by  a  hull  mule  team.  Wouldn't  I  dance  ter 
see  him  marchin'  with  a  gun  on  his  shoulder?  '* 

Already  the  various  industries  that  showed  so  much  ac- 
tivity immediately  after  pay-day  had  begun  lo  thrive 
around  the  200th  Indiana.  The  fresh  troops,  the  first  time 
they  were  paid  off,  fell  an  easy  prey  to  the  seductive  allure- 
ments of  **chuck-a-luck."  This  is  a  game  not  especially 
<jalculated  to  promote  intellectual  or  moral  improvement. 
A  novice  thinks  he  can  see  through  it  right  away,  but 
there  is  where  he  makes  a  mistake.  The  more  he  tries 
it  the  less  he  knows  about  it.  Experience  is  also  likely  to 
Idc  expensive.  The  other  fellow  always  seems,  in  the  long 
run,  to  get  the  money. 

The  innocent  youths  of  the  200th  laid  in  a  stock  of  ex- 
perience  that  day.  Hardened  reprobates  from  some  of  the 
veteran  regiments  gathered  in  the  woods  about  the  camp, 
spread  their  ' '  lay-outs ' '  under  the  trees,  with  piles  of  money 
in  front  of  them,  and  began  to  rattle  their  dice  in  a  tan- 
talizing way.  The  boys  gathered  about,  like  minnows 
nibbling  at  a  hook  baited  with  the  first  angle- worm  of 
spring.  Within  an  hour  scores  of  these  games  were  in  full 
blast. 

Si  and  Shorty  loitered  around  to  see  what  was  going  on. 
Si  became  a  good  deal  interested,  especially  when  he  saw  a 
member  of  Company  Q  win  several  times  in  succession.  He 
wondered  if  luck  wouldn't  favor  him  so  that  he  could  make 
up  what  the  paymaster  ought  to  have  given  him  because 
he  was  a  corporal,  but  didn't,  and  the  amount  that  had 
gone  into  the  voracious  maw  of  the  sutler.  Hehad  asome- 
Avhat  indefinite  idea  that  chuck-a-luck  was  wrong,  and  it 
^^ould  make  his  mother  feel  bad,  but,  if  the  truth  must  be 


358 


SI  *'giyes  her  a  turn," 


told,  Si's  conscience  had  been  severely  burdened  since  he 
left  home,  and  was  getting  a  little  tired. 
**I've  a  notion  ter  give  her  a  turn,*'  he  said  to  Shorty. 
**  Better  not,'*  replied  his  comrade.   **  Them  fellers  '11  horn- 
swoggle  ye,  'n'  they  '11  bust  ye  sartin  'f  ye  play  long  'nuflf.'* 
But  Si  never  wanted  to  take  anybody's  word  for  anything. 
He  would  rather  find  out  for  himself 

**I'll  jest  go  them  four  ten-cent  shinplasters  I've  got^ 

'n'  if  I  lose  'em, 
I'll  quit,"  said  Si. 
''  What  number  '11 
I  try  first?" 

*'I  ain't  goin'  ter 
give  ye  no  advice, 
'cept  ter  quit  'fore 
ye  begin,"  said 
Shorty.  *'  Besides,, 
ef  I  pick  a  number 
fer  ye  it'll  be  dead 
sure  ter  lose.  ThatV 
the  way  it  alius 
was  with  me  when 
I  used  ter  buck  agin 
it." 

''  Here  goes  on 
the  4,"  said  Si,  and 
he  laid  one  of  his 
scrips  on  that  figure.  It  disappeared  at  the  first  throw 
of  the  dice. 

"Now  I'll  try  the  6,"  and  the  second  scrip  went  to  keep 
company  with  the  other. 

It  took  just  four  throws  to  get  rid  of  his  change.  As  the 
** banker"  raked  in  the  money  Si  began  to  get  excited. 
His  losses  already  reached  the  limit  he  had  fixed,  but  he 
could  not  think  of  stopping  there. 

"  I've  got  ter  git  that  back,  Shorty,"  he  said,  "  'cause  I 


CHUCK-A-LUCK. 


AND  IS  LECTURED  BY  SHORTY.  359 

'^^an't  spar'  it.  I'll  jest  go  a  quarter,  'n'  ef  I  c'n  win  a 
eouple  o'  times  I'll  be  even  'n'  then  I'll  sw'ar  o£F.  Here, 
pard,"  he  said  to  the  man  with  the  dice,  "gimme  change 
fer  this  dollar !  Now"— laying  down  a  quarter — *  *  sling  yer 
ivories.    I'll  go  that  on  the  3." 

This  time  Si  won.  ''Thar,  Shorty,"  he  said,  "I  knowed 
't  'd  come  my  way  arter  a  while.  Here  goes  a  half,  fer 
luck." 

The  banker  got  it,  and  in  two  or  three  minutes  had 
what  remained  of  the  dollar.  Si  began  to  feel  for  one  of 
his  five-dollar  bills  when  Shorty  took  him  by  the  arm. 

**Now,  Si,"  he  said,  *'I  ain't  goin'  ter  stan'  here  'n'  let 
them  fellers  skin  ye  'live.  Ye  won't  have  a  cent  left  'n  a  half 
hour.    You  jest  mosey  'long  'th  me." 

Si  got  up  without  a  word  and  walked  away  with  his 
friend.  Shorty  gave  him  a  lecture  that  lasted  him  till 
the  war  was  over,  and  he  never  tried  ' '  chuck-a-luck " 
again. 

Notwithstanding  Si's  resolution  that  he  would  break  off 
all  commercial  relations  with  the  sutler,  his  appetite  got 
the  better  of  him.  It  was  nearly  supper  time,  and  he 
thought  some  of  those  things  the  sutler  had  v/ould  taste 
good.  He  concluded,  upon  reflection,  that  he  could  not 
spend  his  money  better  than  for  something  to  eat.  By  a 
unanimous  vote  he  and  Shorty  at  once  passed  an  appro- 
priation bill,  and  started  for  the  sutler's. 

There  was  a  great  crowd  around  the  big  tent.  Every- 
body seemed  anxious  to  spend  his  money  as  fast  as  possi^ 
ble.  It  went  about  as  easily  and  rapidly  as  it  did  in  play- 
ing chuck-a-luck.  The  sutler  had  spread  out  in  tempting 
array  a  stock  of  new  goods,  and  marked  up  the  prices  to 
keep  pace  with  the  active  demand.  His  clerks  were  all  on 
the  jump  and  the  money  poured  in. 

Si  and  Shorty  made  a  few  investments  that  they  consid^ 
ered  to  be  judicious.  A  re-count  of  their  funds  after  the 
purchases,  however,  warned  them  that  at  that  rate  of  ou^- 


360 


REMITTANCES   POSTPONED, 


lay  tiiey  would  very  soon  be  again  shivering  in  the  chilling 
airofpenur3\ 

One  of  the  uses  of  a  chaplain  was  to  take  home,  after  a 
pay-day,  the  money  that  the  members  of  the  regiment 
wanted  to  send.  He  usually  got  back  in  the  course  of 
two  or  three  months.  The  chaplain  of  the  200th  went  on 
this  errand,  but  the  boys  did  not  load  him  down  very 
heavily.    The  sutler  went,  too,  and  he  carried  a  good  deal 


THE   sutler's   harvest. 


more  money  than  the  chaplain  did.  He  w^as  going  to  * '  salt 
down  "part  of  it,  and  with  the  rest  lay  in  a  supply  of 
goods  for  the  next  pay-day. 

It  became  painfully  evident  to  Si  that  his  cherished  plan 
of  making  liberal  remittances  to  various  members  of  his 
family  must  be  abandoned. 

**I  guess  mother  'n'  Marier  '11  have  ter  wait  t'll  next 
time,"  he  said  to  himself,  "but — "  and  an  hour  later  Si 
placed  in  the  chaplain's  hand  a  letter.    It  said : 


BUT  ANNIE  IS  REMEMBERED.  361 

Ky.,  Nov.  1800  and  62. 
Deer  Annie:  We  was  pade  off  to-day.  I  dident  git  vary  much  only  a 
little  more  'nleven  dollers.  They  give  me  jest  the  saim  what  a  privit  gits 
xind  Ime  a  Corporil.  I  think  its  almitej^  mean  dont  yew.  And  the  sutler 
the  boys  calls  him  Skinner  cause  he  takes  the  hide  rite  off  he  got  purt\'  ni 
haff  my  money.  He  sed  I  ode  it  to  him  fer  checks.  Checks  is  what  the 
boys  gits  from  the  sutler  wen  they  aint  got  enny  money  to  bye  pikles  an 
«ardeens  an  things.  I  gess  the  sutler  puts  down  too  dollers  on  his 
book  evry  time  a  man  byes  one  dollers  worth  of  checks.  Then  it  dont 
take  more'n  5  minits  to  spend  the  checks.  You  hav  to  pay  10  sents  fcr 
a  peece  of  cheese  that  aint  enny  biggem  a  postidge  stamp.  Thats  the  kind 
•of  a  harepin  the  sutler  is.  Shorty  sez  he  gives  the  kumel  lots  of  stuff  but 
we  cant  all  be  kurnels  fer  thar  woodent  be  ennyboddy  to  lik  the  rebbles. 
Now  Annie  this  is  the  furst  money  I  ever  urned  fer  myself  and  I  jest 
wanted  to  cend  part  of  it  fer  yew  to  git  sumthing  thattle  allways  make 
ye  think  of  Si.  Yew  may  as  well  have  it  cause  if  ye  doant  Ime  afeered 
the  sutler  will  git  it.  Take  this  $5.00  and  bye  a  wring  to  ware  on  yer 
finger.  Yew^  no  wich  linger  to  put  it  on.  If  ennyboddy  asks  ye  hoo 
give  ye  that  wring  and  what  yer  warin  it  fer  jist  tell  em  nun  of  thare 
bizness.  We  has  sum  awfle  hard  times  but  Ime  goin  to  stick  by  the  star 
strangled  banger  as  longs  thares  a  rag  of  her  left. 

The  rose  is  red  the  vilets  blew 

Sugar  is  sweet  and  buUj'  fer  yew. 

Always  yourn  Si  Klegg. 

That  night,  after  Si  and  Shorty  had  gone  to  bed,  the  rec- 
ollection of  how  the  paymaster's  clerk  had  treated  him 
rankled  in  Si's  breast.  He  felt  that  the  great  law  of  com- 
pensation required  that  heshould  in  some  way  **get  even** 
with  him.  As  he  lay  thinking  over  various  schemes  for 
revenge,  a  brilliant  idea  flashed  through  his  mind.  He 
thpught  he  would  ask  his  comrade  about  it. 

"Shorty,  wake  up  a  minnit !  " 

And  Si  rose  and  shook  his  bedfellow,  who  was  already 
finoring. 

"Whatcher  want?  "  said  Shorty,  with  his  temper  some- 
what ruffled  at  being  so  rudely  aroused. 

''I've  got  an  idee!  "  said  Si. 

"Wall,  don't  let  it  git  away,"  said  Shorty;  " 'cause  ye 
don't  have  many  on  'em  to  spare." 

"Much  obleeged  t'  ye,  pard.  But  say,  hev  3^e  got  any 
o'  them  little  pediculuses?    Ye  know  what  I  mean." 


362  A  DARK  PLOT. 

**I  reck'n  so/*  said  Shorty;  ''but  s'posin'  I  hev,  w'at  of 
it?" 

**  Lemme  tell  ye  'bout  a  scheme  I've  got  in  my  head.  Ye 
know  that  smart  feller  that  's  clerk  fer  the  paymaster?  " 

'^Yaas!" 

"An*  ye  know  how  he  sailed  into  me  'cause  I  kicked  on 
gittin'  only  privit's  pay,  and  'cause  I  couldn't  write  fast 
enough  ter  suit  him?  I  s'pose  he  hain't  got  any  sand  'n' 
was  in  a  hurry  ter  git  back  to  the  rear  agin  fer  fear  he'd 
git  hurt." 

''Yaas!" 

**  Wall,  Shorty,  he  don't  look  's  if  he'd  ever  seen  one  o' 
them  leetle  bugs  't  makes  things  so  lively  fer  us.  I'd  jest 
like  ter  corral  a  few  on  'em  'n'  go  up  ter  the  tent  wharhe's> 
sleepin'  'n'  see  'f  I  can't  turn  'em  loose  in  his  clothes.  I'm 
goin'  ter  try  it,  anyhow  I  " 

By  this  time  Shorty  was  fully  awake  and  entered  with 
considerable  enthusiasm  into  Si's  plan. 

'' That'll  be  tip-top,  Si,  ef  ye  can  make  it,"  he  said.  "I'll 
see  what  I  kin  do  fer  ye !  " 

So  Si  and  Shorty  stripped  off  their  nether  garments,, 
lighted  a  candle,  and  began  the  search.  It  will  be  sufficient 
to  say  that  they  did  not  have  to  hunt  a  great  while.  They 
secured  a  dozen  or  so  robust  and  healthy  specimens,  that 
seemed  to  have  good  appetites.  Si  carefully  imprisoned 
them  in  a  piece  of  paper,  hurriedly  drew  on  his  clothes  and 
started  on  his  mission. 

"Be  keerful  ye  don't  git  ketched,"  said  Shorty;  "ye 
know  there's  a  guard  there  'n'  they'll  think  ye're  tryin'  to- 
burgle  the  paymaster's  money-box." 

Fortunately  the  night  was  dark,  and  this  favored  Si's 
infamous  plot.  He  crept  cautiously  up  to  the  rear  of  the 
tent  occupied  by  the  paymaster  and  his  clerk.  A  light  was 
burning  dimly  within,  and  a  guard  was  lazily  pacing  to- 
and  fro  in  front. 

Si  raised  the  canvas  and  peeped  under.     The  disburser* 


SQUARING  ACCOUNTS  WITH  THE  CLERK.  363 

of  greenbacks  were  lying  upon  cots,  one  at  each  side  of 
the  tent,  with  their  clothes  at  their  heads.  Si  could  dis- 
tinguish the  major's  uniform  at  one  cot  and  he  knew  the 
other  fellow  was  the  clerk— the  man  he  was  after. 

'a  s'pose  he's  got  his  shirt  on,"  he  said  to  himself^ 
"but  it'll  do  jest  's  well  to  put  'em  inside  his  britches. 
They'll  git  thar  jest  the  same." 

Si  carefully  drew  down  the  clerk's  trousers  and  in  an  in- 
stant the  work  was  done.  He  returned  the  garment  ta 
its  place  and  quietly  went  back  to  his  quarters. 

"Guess  I've  got  the  bulge  on  him!''  he  said,  as  he  en- 
tered the  tent,  where  Shorty  was  waiting  to  learn  the  re- 
sult of  his  trip. 
"Fixedhim,  didye.  Si?" 

"Bet  yer  bottom  dollar  I  did,"  and  Si  told  him  allabout 
it. 

"Sarves  him  right!"  said  Shorty.  "He  thinks  he  's  a 
heap  better  'n  the  rest  on  us,  but  he  ain't.  He'll  have 
'bout  a  thousand  of  'em  in  a  couple  o'  days." 

"I  kinder  wanted  ter  stick  two  or  three  on  'em  in  the 
paymaster's  duds;  he  puts  on  somuch  style  around  here,"^ 
said  Si. 

"That'll  be  all  right,"  replied  Shorty,  "he'll  ketch  'em 
from  the  clerk  quick  'nuff  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

In  Which  Si  goes  Foraging,  is  Caught  in  a  Spider's  Web,  and  has  a 

Close  Call. 

THE  200th  Indiana  had  been  lying  in  camp  for  two  or 
three  days,  and  the  ambitious  heroes  who  composed 
that  regiment  were  getting  tired  of  loafing.  Nothing  chafed 
the  spirit  of  the  new  troops  like  a  condition,  however  brief, 
of  masterly  inactivity.  They  refused  to  be  comforted  un- 
less they  were  on  the  war-path  all  the  time.  Their  ideal 
of  a  soldier's  life  was  to  take  a  rebel  battery  every  morn- 
ing before  breakfast,  storm  a  line  of  works  to  give  them 
an  appetite  for  dinner,  and  spend  the  afternoon  charging 
with  cold  steel  the  serried  columns  of  the  foe,  climbing 
over  heaps  of  slain,  and  wading  around  through  seas  of 
gore. 

"Company  Q  's  been  detailed  to  help  guard  a  forage  train 
tomorrow,"  said  the  orderly  one  evening.  ''We've  got  to 
light  out  early,  so  ye  want  to  be  up  'n'  dressed,  with  yer 
catridge-boxes  full  'n'  a  day's  rations  in  yer  haversacks. 
Be  sure  yer  guns  is  in  good  order,  fer  likely  'snot  we'll  have 
a  skirmish  'fore  we  git  back ! " 

Members  of  the  other  companies  watched  the  prepara- 
tions with  jealous  eyes,  envious  because  they  were  not  de- 
tailed for  the  expedition  instead  of  Company  Q. 

''Say,  Shorty,"  remarked  Si,  thoughtfully,  "hadn't  I 
better  write  a  letter  home?  Who  knows  but  we'll  be  's 
dead  's  mackerels  tomorrer  night !  " 

"Fiddlesticks !  "  said  Shorty.   "What's  the  use  o'  havin' 

364 


AN  EARLY  START.  365 

A  fiinVal  afore  there's  any  corpse !  We've  bin  through  one 
fight  'n'  didn't  git  hurt,  'n'  I've  made  up  my  mind  there's 
no  use  gittin'  into  a  stew  over  a  thing  that  may  hap'n  'n' 
may  not.  Time  'nufF  to  fret  'bout  it  when  it  comes.  Ef 
we're  goin'  to  be  killed  we  can't  help  it,  so  let's  not  fret  our 
gizzards ! "  And  Shorty  crammed  a  handfril  of  hardtack 
into  his  haversack. 

Shorty's  view  of  the  matter  was  not  without  its  effect 
upon  Si.  Indeed,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  common  sense  in  his  homely  philosophy. 
Sooner  or  later  every  soldier  came  gradually  to  adopt 
Shorty's  idea  as  the  governing  principle  of  his  military 
career. 

*' Shouldn't  wonder  if  you  was  'bout  right,"  said  Si,  as 
he  sliced  up  some  bacon  to  have  it  ready  for  an  early  break- 
fast. * 'You're  better 'n  medicine  ter  keep  a  feller  f 'm  gittin* 
the  blues." 

In  the  morning  the  orderly  came  around  and  stirred  the 
boys  up  an  hour  before  reveille,  as  they  w^ere  to  start  at 
daylight.  The  primary  object  of  the  expedition  was  for- 
age for  the  animals,  the  supply  of  which  had  run  short. 
Besides  this  each  man  had  a  secondary  purpose,  and  that 
was  to  gather  in  something  on  his  own  hook  that  would 
satisfy  his  longing  for  a  change  of  diet.  This  was  always- 
the  unwritten  part  of  an  order  to  *'go  foraging." 

Daylight  was  just  streaking  over  the  camp  when  Com- 
pany Q,  equipped  in  light  marching  order,  leaving  knap- 
sacks behind,  moved  out  to  where  the  two  dozen  ^vagons 
detailed*  from  the  brigade  transportation  were  ready  for 
the  start.  Each  regiment  in  the  brigade  furnished  a  com- 
pany to  serve  as  guards.  The  impatient  mules  were  bray- 
ing and  flapping  their  ears,  as  if  they  understood  that  they 
were  to  be  the  chief  beneficiaries  of  the  raid. 

"Pile  in,  boys!"  said  the  orderly,  and  they  clambered 
into  the  wagons.  The  guards  were  permitted  to  ride  until 
there  were  s^^mptoms  of  danger.  


566 


A  HALT  FOR  INFORMATION. 


Then  the  muleteers,  bestriding  the  big  "  wheelers, "  cracked 
their  long  whips,  addressed  to  the  mules  the  usual  words 
of  exhortation,  and  the  procession  drew  out  upon  the 
stony  pike  and  took  a  brisk  trot.  Considerable  foraging 
had  already  been  done  in  the  vicinity,  and  it  was  expected 
the  train  would  have  to  go  out  several  miles  in  order  to 
accomplish  its  object.  The  boys  were  in  fine  spirits  and 
enjoyed  their  morning  ride,  albeit  the  jolting  of  the  wagons 
gave  them  a  thorough  shaking  up. 

**I  guess  they  forgot  to  put  any  springs  in  when  they 
C^r^;5C.v.  built  these  waggins!" 
said  Shorty,  as  he  shift- 
ed his  position  so  that 
he  mie^ht  catch  the 
\^^^  bumps  in  a  new  place 
for  a  while. 

*'Jest  thinkin'  that 
way  myself,"  replied 
Si;  ''but  all  the  same, 
it  beats  travelin'  on  the 
hoof  all  holler!'' 

Three  or  four  miles 
out  from  camp  the 
train  was  halted  while 
the  ofiicers  in  com- 
mand made  inquiries 
of  a  cadaverous  na- 
tive who  was  sunning 
liimself  on  the  fence,  and  whose  principal  occupation  seemed 
to  be  chewing  tobacco  and  distributing  the  resultant  liquid 
around  in  a  promiscuous  way. 

"Good  morning,  stranger,"  said  the  officer;  "have  you 
any  corn  on  your  place?" 

"Hain't  got  a  dog-gonedxar  left !"  was  the  surly  answer. 
"Some  o'  you-unses  men  wuz  out  here  yisterdy  'n'  tuk 
every  bit  I  hed."  _     __ 


A  SOUTHERN   "MOSSBACK.' 


ON  THE  WAY  TO  SCROGGS'S.  367 

This  may  or  may  not  have  been  true.  Inquiries  of  this 
nature  always  developed  the  fact  that  it  was  a  man's  neigh- 
bors who  had  plenty  of  com ;  he  never  had  any  himself. 

**Thar's  ole  man  Scroggs,"  he  continued;  ''he  lives  a 
matter  o'  two  mile  from  hyar.  I  'low  ye'U  git  sum  if  ye  go 
thar.  He  growed  a  power  o'  cawn  this  yeah ;  he  sold  a 
heap,  but  I  reckon  he's  got  a  right  smaht  left." 

During  this  time  a  couple  of  men,  sent  for  that  purpose, 
had  been  making  a  hasty  examination  of  the  outbuildings 
on  the  place.  They  reported  that  they  could  find  nothing 
in  the  way  of  forage.  If  the  man  had  any  corn  he  had 
carefully  concealed  it.  The  train  started  on  to  pay  a  visit 
to  "ole  man  Scroggs." 

"Say,  pard,"  asked  Si  as  his  wagon  drove  past,  "is  there 
any  rebs  'round  here?  " 

"There  wuz  a  few  Confedrit  critter-men ridin'  'bout hyar 
this  mawnin' ;— mebby  ye'U  run  agin  'em  afore  night." 
*'How  many  o'  your  boys  is  among  'em?" 
"  We-uns  is  all  Union." 

"Jest  as  long  as  we're  'round,  I  s'pose!"  said  Si. 
A  mile  further  on  those  who  were  in  the  lead,  rising  to 
the  crest  of  a  hill,  saw— or  thought  they  saw— a  few  va- 
grant cavalrymen  far  ahead.  The  train  was  halted  and 
dispositions  were  made  to  meet  any  emergency  likely  to 
arise.  The  men  were  ordered  to  "tumble  out"  of  the 
wagons.  The  main  body  was  formed  in  advance.  A  line 
of  skirmishers  was  deployed  in  front  and  flankers  were 
thrown  out  on  either  side.  Thus  protected,  the  mule 
drivers  again  cracked  their  whips  and  the  column  moved 
cautiously  forward. 

"Now  keep  yer  eyes  skinned,"  said  Si  to  Shorty,  as 
they  trailed  along  through  the  woods  and  fields  and  over 
fences,  on  one  of  the  flanks.  "If  any  o'  them  raskils  comes 
dodgin'  'round  here  let's  try  'n'  have  the  first  crack  at  'em, 
'n'  git  the  start  o'  the  rest  o'  the  boys !" 
Keenly  alert,  with  muskets  loaded  and  capped,  they 


368  A  GOOD  FIND. 

crept  carefully  along,  poking  their  noses  into  every  thicket 
and  peering  around  every  building.  It  was  clear  that 
there  would  not  be  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  surprise  if 
the  whole  line  w^as  as  well  taken  care  of  as  the  particular 
point  guarded  by  Corporal  Klegg  and  his  faithful  friend 
Shorty. 

''It's  some  like  huntin'  squirrels,  ain't  it,  Shorty?"  said 
Si,  as  they  forced  their  way  through  a  patch  of  brambles. 

**Wall,  yes,"  replied  Shorty;  **but  this  'pears  to  be 
rayther  more  excitin'.  Ye  know  squirrels  doesn't  shute 
back  at  a  feller  like  them  pesky  rebbles  does,  an'  the  fun  '^ 
all  on  one  side.  I  reckon  ef  squirrels  c'd  shute  there 
wouldn't  be  so  much  huntin'  of  'em !" 

In  due  time  the  Scroggs  plantation  was  reached.  A 
thorough  search  showed  that  there  was  an  abundance 
of  corn  on  the  place  to  load  the  wagons,  and  arrange- 
ments for  a  sudden  transfer  of  the  property  were  quickly 
made.  A  third  of  the  force  established  a  cordon  of  picket- 
posts  around  the  w^orking  party,  covering  all  the  avenues- 
of  approach,  with  reserves  at  convenient  points.  The 
remainder  of  the  troops  stacked  arms  and  entered  briskly 
upon  the  work  of  confiscation. 

Part  of  the  harvest  had  already  been  gathered,  and  the 
first  assault  was  made  on  a  well-filled  corn-house— one  of 
a  group  of  dilapidated  outbuildings  a  little  way  from  the 
dwelling.  ''Old  man"  Scroggs  protested  with  profane 
vehemence,  reinforced  by  the  "old  woman "  and  the  entire 
family  of  children.  There  could  not  well  have  been  a  more 
numerous  progeny  in  one  household  anywhere  outside  of 
Utah. 

The  head  of  the  family  cursed  and  swore,  and  his  wife 
and  the  big  girls  looked  as  if  they  wanted  to  do  the  same 
thing,  as  they  wrung  their  hands,  their  eyes  flashing  fire ; 
while  the  small-fry  stood  around  and  sobbed  with  a  vague 
idea  that  some  dire  calamity  had  befallen  them. 

The  old  Kentuckian  declared  that  he  was  a  ' '  Union  man,*' 


EMPTYING  THE  CRIB. 


369 


and  that  he  would  demand  of  the  government  restitution 
for  this  outrage.  It  was  noticed  that  there  were  no  young 
men  around  as  there  should  be,  according  to  the  economy  of 
nature,  to  preserve  the  balance  of  sex  in  so  large  a  family. 
The  officer  in  command  asked  him  where  all  his  sons  were. 

"Wall,  I  kaint  tell  yer  'zactly  whar  they  is,"  was  the  re- 
ply. ''They  ain't  to  hum  jest  now.  I  'low  they've  got  a 
right  to  g'way  ef  they  want  ter !" 

The  officer  had  been  informed  that  there  were  several 


CONFISCATION. 


representatives  of  the  Scroggs  family  in  the  rebel  army. 
The  old  man's  avowal  of  loyalty  was  taken  for  what  it 
was  worth.  That  it  was  not  rated  at  a  high  figure  was 
well  attested  by  the  appearance  of  the  plantation  a  few 
hours  later. 

Meanwhile  the  soldiers  kept  right  along  in  the  duty  as- 
signed them.  The  corn-house  was  surrounded  by  wagons, 
the  roof  was  gently  lifted  off,  and  in  scarcely  more  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  the  story  six  or  eight  of  the  wagons 
were  heaped  with  the  contents.    The  mules  wagged  their 


370  SI  AND  SHORTY  ON  PICKET. 

cars  and  brayed  in  anticipation  of  the  supply  of  rations 
they  would  have  when  they  got  back  to  camp. 

Then  the  force  moved  some  distance  and  attacked  a  large 
field  of  standing  corn.  The  stalks  had  been  "topped,  "but 
the  ears  were  yet  ungathered.  The  men  started  in  between 
the  rows  and  swept  through  that  field  like  a  tornado,  pluck' 
ing  the  ears  right  and  left.  Bags,  baskets  and  boxes  were 
pressed  into  the  service,  and  as  there  were  not  enough  of 
these  to  go  around,  many  carried  the  corn  to  the  wagons  by 
armfuls.  It  did  not  take  more  than  an  hour  to  strip  every 
ear  from  the  field.  A  visitation  of  seven-year  locusts 
could  not  have  done  a  more  thorough  job. 

**Fo'  de  Lawd  boss,"  said  an  old  darkey  who  had 
been  roosting  on  the  fence  watching  the  spoilers,  '*I  nebber 
seed  de  crap  gaddered  so  quick  since  Ise  bawn.  You-uns 
all  is  powerful  smaht,  dat's  shuah!" 

But  where  were  Corporal  Klegg  and  Shorty,  while  all 
this  was  going  on  ? 

They  had  boen  stationed  as  sentinels  near  a  house,  half  a 
mile  beyond,  on  the  pike.  They  were  cautioned  to  keep  a 
sharp  lookout,  and  for  a  time  they  obeyed  their  instruc- 
tions to  the  letter.  Their  vigilant  eyes  swept  the  surround- 
ing country,  and  no  rebel  could  have  crept  up  on  them  with- 
out getting  a  pair  of  bullets  from  their  ready  muskets. 
They  saw  no  signs  of  an  enemy,  and  after  a  while  it  began 
to  grow  monotonous. 

"Shorty,"  said  Si,  "I  don't  b'lieve  there's  any  seceshers 
'n  these  parts,  'n'  there  ain't  no  use  'n  us  both  keepin'  this 
thing  up.  You  jest  watch  awhile  'n'  I'll  skin  around 'n'  see 
what  I  kin  find." 

Shorty  agreed  to  this,  taking  it  as  an  order  from  his  su- 
perior officer.  Si  threw  his  gun  up  to  a  "right-shoulder- 
shift  "  and  started  off,  after  again  urging  upon  his  com- 
panion the  importance  of  attending  strictly  to  his  duty. 

Si  had  not  gone  far  till  he  saw,  penned  in  a  corner  of  the 
barnyard,  a  cow  with  a  full  udder,  from  which  a  frisky 


BEGUILED  FROM  DUTY. 


371 


yoting  calf  was  busily  engaged  in  extracting  nourishment. 
A  riolent  feeling  of  envy  toward  that  calf  began  immedi- 
ately to  rage  in  his  bi  east.  He  had  not  had  a  drink  of  fresh 
milk  since  he  left  home,  and  he  felt  that  a  little  refreshment 
of  that  kind  would  be  particularly  gratifying  to  his  inte- 
rior department.  It  would  strengthen  him  and  give  him 
new  courage  to  stand  up  to  the  rack  if  they  should  happen 
to  get  into  a  fight. 

**I  say,  Shorty,"  he  called,  "cummere  a  minnit,  quick!" 

Si's  conscience  smote  him  for  calling  Shorty  from  his  duty 
and  leaving  the  post  unguarded,  but  the  voice  of  the  tempter 
was  too  strong  for  him  to  resist,  and  he  determined  to 
venture  it    and   trust 

to  luck.     Shorty  came  ,:^>^r^.  r  yl   Cy^ 

on  the  run,  with  eyes 
wide  open,  thinking 
his  comrade  had  dis- 
covered some  rebels 
hanging  around. 

''Look  there!  "said 
Si,  pointing  to  the  ma- 
ternal scene  that  has 
been  alluded  to.  ''Let's 
have  some  o'  that. 
We'll  git  over  the 
fence  'n'  you  jest  hold 
the  calf  while  I  milk  our  canteens  full 
'n  a  jiffy!" 

"We  ortn't  to  leave  the  post,  had  we  ?  "  suggested  Shorty. 

**0h,  there  ain't  no  danger,"  Si  replied;  *"n',  besides, you 
kin  keep  lookin'  out  while  you're  hangin'  onto  the  calf.  I 
was  alius  a  good  milker,  'n'^  I'll  fill  up  these  canteens  in  a 
couple  o'  minnits." 

So  they  climbed  over  and  leaned  their  muskets  against 
the  fence.  Shorty  seized  the  calf  and  held  it  with  a  firm 
grip,  in  spite  of  its  struggling  and  bleating.  The  cow  seemed 


ROBBING  THE  CALF. 


'Twon't  take  mor« 


372  A  DA_^^EROUS  TEMPTER. 

disposed  at  first  to  resent  the  interference,  but  Si's  persua- 
sive *'So,  bossy ! ''  proved  effectual  in  calming  her  fears,  and 
she  stood  placidly  chewing  her  cud  while  Si,  spurred  on  by 
a  guilty  conscience,  milked  with  all  his  might. 

The  canteens  were  soon  filled,  and,  without  stopping  to 
drink,  Si  and  Shorty  hurried  back  to  their  post  of  duty. 
All  was  quiet,  and  no  harm  had  resulted  from  their  brief 
absence. 

"I  told  ye  'twould  be  all  right,"  said  Si.  *'  Now  we'll  jest 
empty,  one  o'  these  canteens — here,  take  a  swig — 'n'  ^we'll 
carry  the  other  to  camp.  It'll  be  jest  bully  ter  have  milk  in 
our  coffee  agin !  " 

Then  they  betook  themselves  to  duty  with  redoubled 
vigilance,  to  atone  for  their  derelictions.  After  watching 
an  hour  without  seeing  anything,  Si  said  he  would  take 
another  little  turn  around  the  place. 

Boldly  advancing  to  the  house,  which  was  some  distance 
in  front  of  their  post,  he  was  met  b^^  a  good  looking  young 
woman.  To  Si's  ardent  imagination  she  was  like  a  vision 
of  surpassing  loveliness.  She  greeted  him  pleasantly — for 
Si  was  a  comely  youth — and  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  he 
actually  forgot  for  the  moment  all  about  his  duty.  When 
she  said  she  would  get  him  up  a  good  dinner,  and  invited 
him  into  the  house  to  sit  while  she  was  preparing  it,  he 
just  went  right  along. 

But  his  conscience  began  to  thump  so  loudly  that  after  a 
few  minutes  he  told  her  he  guessed  he'd  have  to  go,  but 
would  be  delighted  to  return  in  a  little  while  and  enjoy  her 
hospitality. 

"May  I  bring  Shorty — ^he's  my  pard — 'long  with  me?" 
he  timidly  asked. 

"Certainly!"  she  replied  with  a  sweet  smile;  and  Si 
went  away,  his  nerves  tingling  wath  pleasant  emotions. 

"Shorty,"  he  said  as  he  came  up  to  the  latter,  "I've 
struck  it  this  time.  Over  to  that  house  there's  the  purtiest 
gal  I  ever " 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  WEB.  373 

•'Wha-a-a-a-t !"  interjected  Shorty,  with  a  look  of  aston- 
ishment ;  for  he  knew  something  about  the  girl  Si  had  ''left 
behind  him,"  and  he  was  surprised  at  his  comrade's  trea- 
sonable  utterances. 

Si  easily  divined  his  thoughts,  for  something  of  the  same 
nature  had  already  caused  his  own  heart  to  throb  in  a  re- 
proving way. 

''Of— c-c-course— I  d-d-don't  mean  th-th-that,  Shorty," 
he  stammered ;  "but  she's  a  nice  girl,  anyhow,  'n'  she's  git* 
tin'  up  a  dinner  fer  me  'n'  you.  Bet  ye  it'll  be  a  tip-top  lay- 
out, too!" 

Shorty  did  not  feel  quite  at  ease  in  his  mind  about  leav* 
ing  the  post  again,  but  Si  assured  him  it  would  be  all  right. 
The  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case  had  sadly  warped 
his  judgment. 

So  they  went  to  the  house  and  were  cordially  greeted  by 
their  fair  young  hostess,  who  was  flying  around  putting- 
the  finishing  touches  to  the  meal  she  had  prepared  for 
them. 

"Jiminy,  don't  that  smell  good?"  said  Si  toShortyin  an 
undertone,  as  his  sensitive  nostrils  caught  the  savory  odors 
that  arose  from  the  nicely-spread  board. 

The  young  Hoosiers  stood  their  guns  on  the  floor  in  a 
corner  of  the  room,  preliminary  to  an  assault  on  the 
edibles. 

"Ugh!"  exclaimed  the  young  woman,  with  a  coquettish 
shiver,  "be  them  awful  things  loaded?" 

"N-no!"  said  Si;  "they  won't  hurt  ye  if  ye  don't  touch 
'em !" 

Si  wras  learning  to  fib  a  little,  and  he  wanted  to  quiet 
her  fears. 

The  boys  were  soon  seated  at  the  table,  bountifully  sup- 
plied with  ham,  chicken,  eggs,  bread  and  butter,  honey, 
and  all  the  accessories  of  a  well-ordered  repast.  They  fell 
to  with  an  eagerness  that  was,  perhaps,  justified  by  the 


^4 


A  CLOSE  RUB. 


long  time  that  had  elapsed  since  they  had  eaten  a  '*  square 
meal." 

While  they  were  thus  engaged,  without  a  thought  of  im- 
pending danger,  the  girl  suddenly  opened  the  door  leading 
into  an  adjoining  room.  A  young  man— who  proved  to 
be  her  brother — in  the  uniform  of  a  rebel  officer,  dashed  in 
and  presenting  a  cocked  revolver,  demanded  their  uncon- 
ditional and  immediate  surrender. 

They  were  in  a  tight  place.  But  Si  proved  equal  to  the 
sudden  and  appalling  dilemma.     It  flashed  through  his 

mind  in  an  instant  how 
the  girl  had  ''played 
it"  on  him.  He  made 
up  his  mind  that  he 
v^ould  rather  be  shot 
than  be  captured  under 
such  circumstances. 
He  sprang  up,  and  the 
rebel,  true  to  his  word, 
fired.  Si  dodged,  and 
the  ball  only  chipped 
a  piece  from  his  left 
ear.  There  v^as  not 
time  to  get  and  use 
his  gun.  With  the 
quickness  of  a  cat  Si 
sprang  upon  him,  and 
with  a  blow  of  his  fist  laid  him  sprawling  upon  the  floor. 
Disarming  him,  he  placed  the  revolver  at  his  head  and 
triumphantly  exclaimed: 

''Now,  gaul  durn  ye,  you're  my  prisoner.    I'd  like  ter 

blow  the  top  o'  yer  head  ofl*  fer  spilin'  my  dinner,  but  I 

won't  do  it  this  time.    But  you  jest  git  up  'n'  come  'long 

with  me!" 

"With  this  complete  mastery  of  the  situation,  Si's  confi- 


THE  TABLES  TURNED. 


375 


dence  returned,  and  Shorty,  who  had  recovered  himself, 
came  to  his  assistance. 

But  at  this  instant  their  ears  caught  the  sound  of  horses' 
hoofs  galloping  down  the  pike.  Shorty's  quick  perception 
told  him  that  it  was  a  dash  of  rebel  cavalrymen,  and  that 
a  few  minutes  later  escape  would  be  impossible. 

**Grab  yer  gun  an'  git  .^"  he  said.  Si  cast  one  ferocious 
glance  at  the  terrified  girl,  who  stood,  white  and  speech- 
less, contemplating  the 
scene. 

Si  and  Shorty  dashed 
out  of  the  house  and 
started  for  the  reserve, 
at  the  highest  speed  of 
which  their  legs  were 
capable.  On  clattered 
the  horses,  and  a  few 
shots  from  the  carbines 
of  the  swift-riding  horse- 
men whistled  through 
the  air. 

Six  feet  at  a  jump, 
with  thumping  hearts 
and  bulging  eyes,  the  fu- 
gitives almost  flew  over 
the  ground,  throwing 
quick  glances  back  at 
their  pursuers,  and  then  ahead,  in  the  hope  of  catching  a 
glimpse  of  succor. 

'*  Shorty,  if  we— only  git— out  o'  this—"  but  Si  found  he 
hadn't  any  wind  to  spare  to  finish  the  sentence.  The 
reader's  imagination  must  supply  the  good  resolutions  as 
to  his  future  conduct  that  were  floating  in  Si's  mind  at 
this  critical  juncture.  He  saw  the  awful  consequences  of 
yielding  to  the  influence  of  that  alluring  young  woman 
and  her  seductive  dinner.    What  he  had  read  about  Adam 


THE  VALUE  OF  GOOD  LEGS. 


37^  AN  EXCITING  RACE. 

and  the  trouble  Eve  got  him  into,  in  pretty  much  the  same 
way,  flashed  before  him.  It  was  a  good  time  to  resolve 
that  he  wouldn't  do  so  any  more. 

Shorty,  long  and  lank,  was  swifter  on  his  feet  than  Si. 
Hardtack  and  bacon  had  not  yet  reduced  the  latter's  sur- 
plus flesh  to  a  degree  that  enabled  him  to  run  well.  Shorty 
kept  ahead,  but  would  not  desert  his  comrade,  slowing  up 
for  an  instant  now  and  then  to  give  Si,  who  was  straining 
to  the  utmost  every  nerve,  and  puffing  like  a  locomotive  on 
an  up  grade,  a  chance  to  keep  within  supporting  distance. 

The  soldiers  of  the  reserve,  taking  the  alarm,  came  out 
at  a  double-quick,  and  were  fortunately  able  to  cover  the 
retreat  of  the  fugitives.  The  half-dozen  cavalrymen,  upon 
the  appearance  of  so  large  a  force,  turned  their  horses  and 
galloped  away. 

''Hello,  Si,"  said  the  orderly  of  Company  Q,  ''yer  ear's 
bleedin'.    What  hurt  ye  ?  " 

''Fell  down  and  scratched  it  on  a  brier! "  said  Si,  as  soon 
as  he  was  able  to  speak. 

That  night  Si  and  Shorty  sat  on  a  log  by  the  campfire, 
talking  over  the  events  of  the  day. 

"Don't  ye  never  blow  on  this  thing,"  said  Si.  "It  'd  be 
a  cold  day  fer  us  if  they'd  find  it  out.*' 

"There  ain't  no  danger  o'  my  tellin',"  replied  Shorty. 
"But,  say,  aiiz't  that  a  'nice'  girl  out  there?  " 

"She  's  a  mean  rebel,  that 's  what  she  is !  But  that  was 
a  smart  trick  o'  hern,  wa'n't  it  ?  " 

"Come  mighty  near  bein'  too  smart  fer  us!"  replied 
Shorty.  "I  don't  want  no  more  sich  close  shaves  in  mine. 
You  'member  the  story  of  the  spider  'n'  the  fly,  don't  ye  ? 
Wall,  she  \vas  the  spider  'n'  v^e  was  two  poor  little  fool 
flies!" 

"Shorty,"  said  Si,  "I'd  a  mighty  sight  ruther  be  an  an- 
gel 'n'  haA^e  the  daisies  a-bloomin'  over  my  grave  than  to 
ha'  been  tuk  apris'ner  in  that  house.  But  that  dinner  waa 
good,  anyhow — what  we  got  of  it ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


Sakta  Claus  Fails  to  Connect  With  Corporal  Klegg,  WabsE  Only 
Christmas  Present  is  an  Order  to  March. 


CC  TT'S  purty  nigh  Christmas,  Shorty,"  said  Si  one  day 
X  '  in  December.     **  Goin'ter  hangup  yer  stockin's  ?" 

''Stockin's  be  blowed!"  replied  Shorty.  "What's  the 
tise  o'  doin'  that  here  ?  Old  Santa  Claus  '11  never  come 
nigh  the  army.    He'^  no  fool !" 

"Vm  'fraid  you're  'bout  right!"  said  Si,  sadly.  ''But  I 
seen  Pete  Jimson  this  mornin'.  You  knowed  him,  didn't 
ye  ?  He's  bin  trampin'  Vound  an'  carryin'  a  musket  goin' 
on  two  3'ears.  He  told  me  we'd  be  all  right  Christmas, 
anyhow,  as  the  guvyment  always  gives  the  soljers  a  bully 
dinner — roast  turkey,  'n'  cramberry  sass,'n'  eyesters,  'n' 
mince  pie,  'n'  sich.  Ye  know  when  the  fellers  come  'round 
speechifyin'  ter  git  us  to  jine  the  army  they  told  us  this 
was  the  best  guvyment  in  the  world !" 

''Pete  Jimson  was  only  a-stuffin'  of  ye!"  said  Shorty, 
with  a  smile  of  derision.  "Don't  ye  b'lieve  it,  Si ;  fer  I  tell 
ye  he's  foolin'  ye ! " 

A  shade  of  sadness  crept  over  Si's  face,  as  the  thought 
that  what  Shorty  had  said  might  be  true  clouded  his 
bright  visions  of  a  Christmas  feast. 

"Wall,  I  dunno,"  said  he,  musingly,  "mebbe  that's  so. 
But  me  'n'  Pete  Jimson  used  ter  go  ter  Sunday-school  to- 
gether, 'n'  I  wouldn't  s'pose  he'd  lie  ter  me  'n  that  way." 

**  Ye'U  git  yer  eye-teeth  cut  arter  a  while,  and  then  ye'U 

377 


378  A  HOME  REMEMBRANCE. 

know  more  'n  ye  do  now !"  said  Shorty,  with  a  glance  of 
pity  at  Si  for  his  simplicity. 

''Wonder  'f  I'll  git  so  I  kin  lie  like  Pete  Jimson  by  the 
time  I've  been  in  the  army  's  long  's  he  has  ?"  observed  Si. 

''I  reckon  ye  will,"  answered  Shorty;  "I  guess  they  all 

does." 

For  some  time  the  200th  Indiana  had  been  lying  in 
camp.  That  night  the  mail  brought  Si  a  letter  fron>  home. 
His  sister  Maria  wrote  that  they  were  filling  up  a  big  box 
with  lots  of  good  things  which  they  were  going  to  send 
him  for  Christmas.  In  the  letter  was  a  slip  from  Annabel^ 
telling  Si  how  glad  she  was  to  have  a  chance  to  send  him 
something.  She  had  made  another  big  fruit  cake,  all  her- 
self, for  him,  and  she  hoped  the  mean  ' '  grillas  ' '  she  had  heard 
about,  whatever  they  were,  wouldn't  get  it.  If  she  really 
believed  they  would  she'd  fill  it  with  ''kyen"  pepper,  or 
"pizen,"  or  something  that  would  make  them  wish  they 
had  let  it  alone. 

Si  told  Shorty,  with  a  good  deal  of  emotion,  about  the 
box  he  was  going  to  get,  running  over  a  list  of  the  "good- 
ies "  that  would  be  in  it,  and  which  he  would  be  so  glad  to 
share  with  him. 

'*I  ain't  goin'  ter  open  the  box  'fore  Christmas  momin'," 
said  Si,  in  joyful  anticipation  of  the  dawn  of  that  auspi- 
cious day. 

' '  I  don't  much  think  ye  will,  myself, ' '  replied  Shorty.  *  *  I 
'low  ye '11  be  mighty  lucky  'f  ye  git  a  chance  ter  open  that 
box  at  all.  The  grillas  gathers  in  a  good  deal  of  that  trash, 
and  what  gits  past  them  is  gobbled  up  by  the  mule-whack- 
ers." 

But  Si  had  an  undying  faith  that  his  box  would  get 
through  all  right,  however  disastrous  might  be  the  fate  of 
others.  As  Christmas  drew  near  he  began  to  watch  for  it 
daily.  The  regiment  was  camped  two  or  three  miles  out 
from  the  city.  Si  watched  every  train  of  wagons  that 
brought  supplies  to  the  camp,  and  whenever  he  got  an 


A  BOGUS  SANTA   CLAUS.  379 

Opportunity  he  sent  to  town  to  see  if  he  could  get  any 
tidings  of  it.  Once  or  twice  he  got  a  ''pass "  himself,  and 
hunted  the  city  over  for  that  box. 

The  day  before  Christmas  the  brigade  to  which  Si's  regi- 
ment belonged  was  ordered  out  on  a  reconnoissance.  It 
was  a  rainy  day.  The  brigade  went  charging  over  the 
fields  and  tearing  through  the  woods  and  thickets,  some- 
times on  the  double-quick,  trying  to  catch  a  squad  of  rebel 
cavalry,  and  then  creeping  up  to  gather  in  some  of  the 
enemy's  pickets.  Late  in  the  evening  the  brigade  returned 
to  camp.  Si  thought  he  had  never  been  so  tired  before  in 
his  life.  All  day  his  drooping  spirits  had  been  cheered  by 
the  hope  of  finding  his  box  when  he  got  back.  But  it  had 
not  come,  and  he  was  inconsolable. 

*'Ef  I  was  3'ou  I  wouldn't  open  yer  box  'fore  Christmas 
mornin',"  said  Shorty,  as  he  and  Si  stood  around  the 
fire,  getting  supper.  ' '  And  what  d  'ye  think  now  about  Pete 
Jimson's  turkey  'n'  mince-pie?  " 

Si  didn't  say  anything.  His  grief  was  too  deep  for  utter- 
ance. He  didn't  care  whether  the  spangled  banner  had  anv 
stars  left  at  all  or  not.  Wet,  weary,  footsore  and  thor- 
oughly disgusted,  he  went  to  bed  and  was  soon  asleep^ 
dreaming  of  Christmas  at  home,  and  mother,  and  Annabel, 
and  turkey-stuflSng,  and  plum-pudding. 

**  Hello,  Si,  w^ake  up  here !    Merry  Christmas  to  ye ! " 

It  was  Shorty,  routing  out  Si,  soon  after  daylight.  As 
soon  as  Si  opened  his  eyes  he  saw  his  stockings  full  of  some- 
thing or  other,  pinned  to  the  tent  just  above  his  head.  He 
jumped  to  his  feet  with  as  much  eagerness  as  when,  in  his 
juvenile  days,  he  used  to  find  candy  apples  and  jumping- 
jacks  sticking  out  of  his  well-filled  hose. 

The  average  army  stocking  was  w^onderfully  made.  A 
new  one,  after  being  worn  a  couple  of  days,  looked  more 
like  SI  nose-bag  for  a  mule  than  anything  else. 

Si  soon  found  how  the  boys  had  conspired  against  him. 
They  all  knew  about  the  box  which  he  had  so  anxiously 


380 


THE  vSAD  FATE   OF  SI  S  BOX. 


expected,  and  which  none  of  them  beUeved  he  would  get. 
So,  after  he  went  to  sleep  that  night,  they  slyly  pulled  off 
his  stockings — for  Si  slept  with  them  on,  as  did  nine-tenths 
of  the  soldiers— filled  them  with  wormy  hardtack,  bacon- 
rinds,  beef-bones,  sticks,  and  bits  of  old  harness,  pouring 
in  beans  and  rice  to  fill  up  the  chinks,  and  pinned  them  to 
the  tent  above  him. 

The  greatest  mistake  a  soldier  ever  made  was  to  lose 
his  temper  on  account  of  a  harmless  joke.  Si  was  wse 
enough  to  take  it  good-naturedW as  he  emptied  the  ''nose- 
bags "  and  drew  them  on  his  feet. 

It  was  a  raw  Decem- 
ber morning,  with  a 
keen,  nipping  air.  As 
Si  skirmished  around 
for  his  breakfast  he  re- 
alized that  all  his  festive 
anticipations  of  a  few 
days  before  were  doom- 
ed to  utter  and  irre- 
mediable disappoint- 
ment. 

' '  It's  tough,  fer  Christ- 
mas, ain't  it,  Shorty?" 
said  Si,  as  he  gnawed 
his  hardtack. 

CHRISTMAS  MORNING.  Jf  Jjig  ]^q^  WOUld  Onlj 

come  he  might  yet  be  happy,  so  to  speak ;  but  hope  had 
given  wa}^  to  despair. 

It  was  more  than  four  wrecks  after  that  time,  when  the 
debris  of  the  battle  had  been  cleared  away,  that  Si's  Christ- 
mas box  found  its  way  to  the  front.  Its  contents,  what 
was  left  of  them,  were  in  a  condition  to  make  angels  weep. 
The  teamsters  had  pried  it  open  and  rioted  upon  the  savory 
dainties  that  loving  hearts  and  hands  had  prepared  for  Si. 
A  small  section  of  Annabel's  cake  was  left,  and  the  rava- 


MARCHING  ORDERS  ONCE  MORE. 


381 


gers,  with  a  refinement  of  cruelty ,  had  written  on  the  paper 
wrapped  around  it : 

''  This  is  bully  cake.     Try  it !" 

Almost  everything  in  the  box  had  been  eaten,  and  what 
remained  was  a  hopeless  ruin.  Rough  handling,  that 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  railroad  baggage-master,  had 
broken  bottles  of  pickles  and  jars  of  fruit,  and  the  liquids 
had  thoroughly  baptized  the  edibles  that  the  mule  drivers 
had  spared.  It  was  a  sorry  mess,  and  Si's  heart  ached  as 
he  gazed  upon  the  wreck. 

The  forenoon  of  Christmas  day  was  dull  enough.    The 
boys  were  let  off  from  drill, 
and  spent  the  time  chiefly 
in  writing  letters  and  chas- 
ing the  pensive  pediculus. 

Soon  after  noon  the  ser- 
geant-major of  the  200th 
was  seen  rushing  along  the 
line  of  the  officers'  tents 
with  orders.  He  had  the^ 
air  of  a  man  who  bore 
important  tidings.  In  a 
few  minutes  it  was  known  J" 
through  the  camp  that  the 
commanding  general  had 
issued  orders  for  an  ad- 
vance, and  the  army  was  to  be  ready  to  move  at  daylight 
next  morning.  Tents,  wagons,  and  everything  that 
men  did  not  choose  to  carry  on  their  backs  were  to  be  left 
behind. 

"Wonder  'f  we're  goin'  ter  have  a  fight  this  time?"  Si 
said,  with  some  solicitude. 

"Looks  that  way!"  replied  Shorty^ 

The  quiet  of  the  morning  was  followed  by  the  bustle  and 
confusion  of  getting  ready  to  move.  There  was  hurrying 
to  and  fro.    Feet  and  hands  and  tongues  were  busy.    Th^* 


THE  FATE  OF  Si'S  BOX. 


382  A  BUSY  CHRISTMAS. 

officers  made  the  usual  fuss,  and  kept  everybody  in  a  stew. 
The  orderly  sergeants  had  their  hands  full,  as  they  always 
did  at  such  times.  There  were  rations  to  be  drawn  and 
issued — for  the  men  were  to  march  with  full  haversacks ; 
cartridge-boxes  to  be  inspected  and  replenished;  the  sick 
to  be  sent  to  hospitals  in  the  city ;  needed  articles  of  cloth- 
ing to  be  supplied ;  all  camp  equipage  and  personal  bag- 
gage to  be  packed  and  sent  back ;  frequent  details  of  men 
to  be  made  for  this,  that  and  the  other  duty ;  and  all  the 
numberless  things  that  appertained  to  the  beginning  of  a 
campaign. 

So  it  was  that  during  that  Christmas  afternoon  and 
evening  fifty  thousand  men  were  busily  engaged  in  prepara- 
tion. While  he  was  hustling  around  Si  thought  how  dif- 
ferent it  was  from  all  his  previous  Christmases,  and  even 
from  the  one  he  had  hoped  to  have  this  time.  But  he  was 
fast  learning  to  be  a  good  soldier  and  take  things  as  they 
came. 

It  was  late  that  night  when  the  work  was  finished. 
Then  the  soldiers  wrapped  themselves  in  their  blankets  to 
get  a  few  hours  of  sleep  before  the  reveille  should  awaken 
them  for  the  march  to  battle. 

This  was  the  way  Si  Klegg  and  all  the  other  soldiers  of 
that  army  spent  that  Christmas.  Si  managed,  as  did 
most  of  the  others,  to  snatch  a  few  minutes  to  write  a 
brief  letter  or  two.  A  great  mail  started  northward  the 
next  day.    Many  a  poor  fellow  never  wrote  again. 

The  soldiers  did  not  suffer  during  the  night  from  the 
gripings  of  indigestion,  in  consequence  of  *having  over- 
loaded their  stomachs  with  turkey  and  mince-pie.  It  is 
unquestionably  true  that  their  abstinence  from  these  time- 
honored  accessories  of  the  festive  day  was  not  vol- 
untary, but  was  due  to  circumstances  over  which  they  had 
no  control.  While  nightmares  were  prancing  around  upon 
the  prostrate  forms  of  their  friends  at  home,  the  soldiers 


OMINOUS  PREPARATIONS.  383 

quietly  slept,  wrapped  in  army  blankets,  in  their  camps 
that  fringed  the  far-off  southern  city. 

Nor  did  they  sleep  any  the  less  soundly  because  they 
were  under  orders  to  march.  At  four  o'clock  they  must 
spring  at  sound  of  bugle  and  at  daylight  the  foremost  bat- 
talions must  file  out  upon  the  roads  leading  southward. 
The  army  was  soon  to  look  into  the  very  eye  of  its  an- 
tagonist, and  engage  it  in  deadly  conflict. 

All  the  arrangements  for  an  active  campaign  of  a  great 
army  had  been  carefully  made.  The  troops  were  thor- 
oughly equipped  and  provisioned.  Long  trains  of  wagons 
loaded  with  ammunition  of  all  kinds,  for  infantry,  cavalry 
and  artillery,  gave  unerring  indication  of  important  events 
in  the  near  future.  The  presumption  that  the  enemy  would 
be  equally,  or  at  least  sufficiently,  well  provided  in  this 
respect  was  shown  by  the  suggestive  array  of  ambulances, 
stretchers,  medical  stores  and  hospital  supplies.  Surgeons 
were  summoned  to  their  regiments,  and  put  their  instru- 
ments in  order  for  the  ghastly  work  before  them.  All  who 
could  not  march  and  fight  or  be  otherwise  useful  v^ere  left 
behind,  the  army  being  stripped  of  everything  that  could 
impede  its  movements  or  impair  its  efiiciency. 

A  day  or  two  before  this.  Corporal  Klegg,  while  walking 
just  outside  the  camp,  saw  an  enterprising  idiot  nailing  a 
large  placard  to  a  tree.  He  naturally  stopped  and  read  it. 
It  bore  this  legend: 


EMBALMING  THE  DEAD 

AT  LOWEST  RATES. 
BODIES  CAREFULLY  PRESERVED  AND  SHIPPED  NORTH. 

Satisfaction  Guaranteed — Caskets  a  Specialty. 
Coffin  &  Graves,  Undertakers. 


384 


A  COMFORTING  ADVERTISEMENT. 


Si  read  this  gratifying  announcement  two  or  three  times, 
as  if  to  catch  its  full  meaning,  and  then  turned  away  with 
a  low  whistle.  The  man — w^ho  wore  crape  on  his  hat  and 
looked  like  the  head  of  a  funeral  procession— had  gathered 
up  his  roll  of  hand-bills  and  was  starting  for  another  tree 
when  Si  addressed  him : 

"Say,  Mister,  who  is  it  yer  guarantees  satisfaction  to — 
the  corpse?  'Cause  ef  yer  kin  make  him  feel  satisfied  'n* 
comf 'table-like  itll  be  a  fust-rate  thing." 

**  Young  man,"  said 
'i/V'j'  the  undertaker,  *'  this 
is  a  serious  business, 
and  your  levity  is  un- 
seemly." And  he  went 
on  to  explain  to  Si  his 
beautiful  sj^stem  of  em- 
balming, as  if  he  thought 
he  had  succeeded  in  rob- 
bing death  of  half  its  ter- 
rors. But  Si  had  never 
for  a  moment  imagined 
that  he  was  going  to  be 
killed,  and  the  remarks 
,7/K  of  the  melancholy  man 
Aw'^did  not  make  the  im- 
pression upon  him  that 
might  have  been  ex- 
pected. 

**Mebbe  ef  ye'd  git  yer  gun  'n'  come  'long  with  us,"  he 
said,  ''ye  might  have  a  chance  ter  find  out  j^erself  how  yer 
embamin'  works,  'n'  what  sort  o'  satisfaction  a  man  feels 
when  he's  all  fixed." 

"I  would  advise  you  to  read  these,"  was  the  solemn 
reply ;  and  the  man  handed  Si  a  package  of  tracts. 
"I'll  hand  'em  'round  ter  the  boys,"  replied  Si. 
The  200th  Indiana  had  passed  through  the  fir«t  stage 


A  CHEERFUL  LEGEND. 


HOW  THEY  FELT  ABOUT  IT.  385 

of  army  life  and  experience,  with  the  result  common  to  all 
regiments.  A  few  months  of  active  campaigning,  without 
decimation  by  battle,  always  weeded  out  the  two  classes 
of  those  who  were  but  an  incumbrance  to  an  army.  There 
were  the  men  of  whom  it  might  be  said  the  spirit  was  will- 
ing but  the  flesh  was  weak.  They  were  ready  to  do  and 
dare,  but  physically  unable  to  endure  the  fatigues  and 
hardships  of  the  service.  The  other  class  was  composed 
of  those  who  could  march  and  eat  well  enough,  but  were 
deficient  in  ''sand."  Every  company  had  such  men  at 
first,  but  they  did  not  stay  long.  This  inevitable  shrmk- 
age  had  left  the  200th  with  five  hundred  or  six  hundred 
soldiers — men  who  were  to  fight  its  battles  and  follow  its 
flag. 

The  prospect  of  meeting  the  enemy  had  a  varying  effect 
upon  the  soldiers.  Many  of  those  who  at  that  time  were 
entitled  to  be  called  veterans  had  already  breasted  the 
storm  of  battle.  The  ardor  begotten  of  a  desire  to  engage 
for  the  first  time  in  the  deadly  fray,  and  to  hear  the  whist- 
ling of  bullets,  the  bursting  of  shells,  and  the  awful  roar 
of  conflict,  had  given  place  to  a  courage  far  more  enduring. 
The  truly  brave  man  was  not  the  one  who  rushed  into 
battle  ''like  the  unthinking  horse,"  but  rather  he  who 
knew  and  appreciated  the  danger,  and  yet,  at  the  call  of 
duty,  stood  willingly  face  to  face  with  death.  This  was  the 
feeling  that  pervaded  the  older  regiments  as  they  girded 
themselves  for  the  trial  that  was  before  them. 

The  bulging  patriotism  of  the  new  troops  manifested 
itself  in  the  usual  way.  All  the  blood-curdling  pictures  of 
slaughter  the^^  had  ever  seen,  and  the  harrowing  tales  told 
by  their  veteran  comrades  on  the  march  and  around  the 
camp-fire,  could  not  stanch  the  overflow  of  their  bubbling 
zeal.  Most  of  them  could  be  satisfied  with  nothing  but 
an  opportunity  to  charge  up  to  the  very  muzzles  of  belch- 
ing batteries,  and  to  plunge  their  yet  unstained  bayonets 
into  the  quivering  bodies  of  the  foe.     This  frantic  desire 


386  ANNIHILATION— BY  FIGURES. 

melted  away  when  their  eyes  and  ears  had  been  once 
shocked  by  the  sights  and  sounds  of  battle.  Their  silence 
on  this  subjedl  ever  after  was  oppressive. 

Corporal  Klegg  and  Shorty  were  typical  representa- 
tives of  two  extreme  phases  of  feeling.  Si  was  in  that 
condition  sometimes  described  as  ''spoiling  for  a  fight." 
In  imagination  he  saw  the  whole  country  moved  with  admi- 
ration for  the  heroic  deeds  of  Corporal  Klegg,  and  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  glad  and  impatient  expectancy  that  he 
awaited  the  long-delayed  clash  of  arms. 

Shorty  took  a  more  conservative  view  of  the  matter. 
He  w^as  some  years  older  than  Si  and  had  lost  the  exuber- 
ance of  youth.  Prosy  and  calculating,  with  an  eye  to  the 
results  that  were  likely  to  follow,  he  was  not  dazzled  by 
the  splendor  of  martial  glory.  He  was  no  more  a  coward 
than  Si.  His ' '  pard  "  v/ould  always  find  him  at  his  elbow, 
whatever  of  danger  might  betide,  but  he  did  not  pant  for 
it  as  Si  did. 

The  prevailing  idea  among  the  members  of  the  200th 
Indiana  w^as  that  if  the  rebel  general  only  knew  that  their 
regiment  ^vas  coming  he  w^ould  be  wise  and  give  up  with- 
out a  fight.  They  hoped,  however,  that  he  wouldn't  hear 
of  it,  because  they  wanted  to  annihilate  his  army  and  end 
the  war. 

''Seems  to  me,"  said  Si,  as  he  was  talking  it  over  with 
Shorty,  "we  ought  ter  use 'em  up  purty  quick.  I  ain't 
much  on  figgerin',  but  I've  worked  it  out  'n  this  way : 
We've  got  a  hunderd  rounds  o'  catridges  apiece.  There's 
'bout  six  hunderd  on  us,  and  that'll  make  sixty  thousand 
catridges.  I  reck'n  the  rebs  11  be  so  thick  't  we  kin  hit  a 
man  every  crack.  We  kin  load  'n  fire  once  every  two 
minits,  easy  'nuff,  'n'  'twon't  take  us  more  'n  three  hours 
er  so  to  kill  off  the  hull  army.  I  can't  see  why  the  200th 
Injianny  hadn't  orter  cook  their  goose  fer  'em." 

"What  d'ye  s'pose  the  rebs  '11  be  doin'  all  that  time?" 
said  Shorty.     "D'ye  think  they're  goin'  ter  stan'  there  like 


OFF  TO  THE  FRONT. 


387 


to  many  rows  o'  wooden  men  'n'  let  us  shoot  'em  down  'n 
their  tracks  ?  Ye  don't  want  ter  fergit  't  they've  got  guns, 
too,  'n'  they  know  how  to  use  'em  jest 's  well 's  we  do." 

Si  really  had  not  thought  of  this.  He  saw  the  force  of 
Shorty's  suggestion,  however,  and  that  it  would  be  nec- 
essary for  him  to  revise  his  calculation. 

''Wall,  I  don't  care  how  ye  fix  it,"  he  said,  "we're  goin' 
ter  lick  'em,  anyhow !  The  200th  Injianny  's  goin'  to  walk 
right  inter  that  town  there,  and  we're  goin'  ter  plant  the 
fust  flag  on  the  court-house." 

''I  hope  ye're  right,"  said  Shorty,  ''but  ye  can't  some- 
times tell.    We'll  know  more  'bout  it  arter  the  racket 's  all 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  200th  Indiana  Marches  to  Battle,  and  Si  Klegg  Experiences 
THE  Thrilling  Emotions  that  Precede  the  Conflict. 

FAR  and  near  sounded  the  reveille  through  the  camps 
of  a  hundred  regiments,  that  covered  field  and  hill- 
side. It  was  two  hours  before  dawn,  but  by  the  dancing 
light  of  the  fires  the  final  preparations  for  the  advance 
were  made.  Every  officer  and  man  v^as  busy.  There  was 
no  time  for  loitering  or  for  sentimental  meditation.  Horse- 
men dashed  hither  and  thither  with  orders,  and  menspran^j 
at  the  word,  in  wilHng  and  prompt  obedience.  All  bag- 
gage and  equipage  were  loaded  upon  wagons  and  sent  to 
the  rear.  At  the  appointed  hour  the  "assembly"  was 
sounded.  Companies,  and  then  regiments  and  brigades, 
were  quickly  formed.  The  men  carried  full  haversacks  and 
cartridge-boxes,  with  sixty  additional  rounds  per  man  in 
their  pockets.    Nearly  all  chose  to  be  unincumbered  by 


388 


AT  THEIR  OLD  TRICKS. 


their  knapsacks,  and  left  them  with  the  baggage  train. 
Each  man  had  his  overcoat  and  blanket  rolled  up  with  the 
ends  tied  together  like  a  great  doughnut,  and  thrown  over 
his  shoulder.  The  bugles  sounded  ''Forward,"  and  the 
long  columns,  with  swinging  step,  filed  out  upon  the  roads 
and  stretched  away  to  the  southward. 
The  seasoned  veterans  of  '61  still  availed  themselves  of 


every  opportunity  to  ''nag 


the  recent  levies.  Troops 
were  always  "new"  until 
they  had  been  through  a 
battle,  and  by  good  be- 
havior earned  the  right  to 
be  called  soldiers.  Then 
the  good-natured  jest  and 
gibe  were  heard  no  more. 

As  the  200th  Indiana 
filed  past  one  of  the  old 
regiments  it  received  the 
inevitable  fusillade: 

"  Hey,  you  paper-collar 
Hoosiers  ;  had  ter  leave 
ver  trunks  behind,   didn't 


ye 


?" 


fer 


READY  FOR  BUSINESS. 


"  Ben  measured 
coif 'ns  yet?" 

"  They  won't  none 
'em  git  killed;  can't 
'em  up  close  enough ! " 


yer 

on 
git 


**How  they'll  climb  fer  the  rear  's  soon  's  the  bullets  be- 
gins ter  zip!" 

Si  Kleggfelt  his  angry  passions  rise  at  these  imputations 
upon  their  valor.  He  would  have  resented  them  then  and 
there  had  he  not  a  vivid  remembrance  of  his  experience 
upon  former  occasions,  under  circumstances  somewhat 
similar.  So  he  bottled  his  wrath  and  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on 
kis  file-leader.    He  comforted  himself  with  the  thought  that 


PUSHING  FORWARD. 


389 


sometime  he  would  be  a  veteran,  and  other  new  troops 
would  appear  in  the  field.  He  would  square  the  account 
by  taking  out  his  revenge  upon  them. 

The  advance  occupied  three  or  four  days.  Much  of  the 
time  the  weather  was  wet,  raw  and  dismal.  Inhere  was 
no  trouble  in  finding  the  enemy.  He  made  himself  conspic- 
uously obnoxious  day  and  night,  stubbornly  j^elding  to 
the  pressure  of  the  long  lines  of  blue,  and  falling  back  from 
one  position  to  another. 

It  was  one  of  those  jerky,  exasperating  marches  that  put 
the  temper  and  patience  -^ 

of  the  men  to  the  ex- 
treme test.  On  the  pikes 
the  columns  advanced 
and  halted  alternateh^ 
reaching  out  a  little 
way  and  then  gather- 
ing themselves  up,  inch- 
ing along  like  huge 
worms.  The  men, 
wet  and  weary,  stood 
around  and  shivered  in 
the  chilling  air.  An 
occasional  cannon  shot 
or  a  sputtering  fire  of 
musketry  kept    all    on  _ 

the  alert.  they  stop  for  nothing. 

Between  these  columns  the  stretches  of  field  and  wood 
were  swept  by  heavy  lines  of  skirmishers,  supported  by 
brigades  and  divisions  moving  in  battle  array.  These 
forded  streams  and  plunged  through  dripping  thickets, 
throwing  down  the  fences  that  stood  in  their  way.  Now 
and  then,  when  the  enemy  grew  saucy  and  did  not  seem 
disposed  to  take  a  hint,  there  would  be  a  dash,  a  yell,  and 
a  scamper. 

In   this   way  passed  the  days  of  holiday  week.     The 


890  SI  STILL  IMPATIENT. 

nights  were  spent  in  abortive  attempts  to  sleep,  lying  upon 
the  muddy  ground,  with  sodden  clothes  and  blankets,  or 
dozing  around  the  feeble  fires,  half-blinded  by  smoke. 
Strong  picket-lines  extended  entirely  around  the  army,  and 
watchful  eyes  kept  vigil  through  the  slowly-dragging 
hours.  More  than  once  each  night  straggling  shots  v^ere 
heard,  and  instantly  all  the  soldiers  in  that  vast  bivouac 
seized  their  arms  and  sprang  into  line. 

The  200th  Indiana  had  its  full  share  of  duty  in  all  its 
diversified  forms.  Si  and  Shorty,  with  soaked  and  muddy 
garments,  and  hands  and  faces  begrimed  with  smoke  and 
dirt,  were  always  at  their  post,  and  in  the  front  when  the 
regiment  had  the  advance.  The  occasional  whiz  of  a  bullet 
or  the  bursting  of  a  shell  contributed  a  sufficient  flavor  of 
danger  to  keep  Si  in  a  state  of  effervescent  excitement. 

"If  them  raskils  'd  onl}^  quit  runnin'  'n'  give  us  a  fa'r 
5tan'-up  fight !"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  200th  dashed  through 
a  piece  of  woods,  only  to  see  the  gray  troopers  galloping 
in  the  distance. 

"Don't  be  in  a  stew,  Si,  'si 'vet  old  ye  before,  "said  Shorty. 
"I  don't  b'lieve  ye'll  have  ter  wait  much  longer  'fore  ye'll 
git  's  much  's  ye  kin  hold.  Them  Johnnies  is  only  fallin* 
back  to  jine  the  main  army,  and  we're  goin'ter  bump  agin 
suthin  solid  purty  quick.  Now  you  mind  what  I'm  a-tellin* 
ye,  'n' jest  hold  yerself  level,  fer  ye're  goin'  to  have  all  the 
fightin'  ye  want  this  trip !" 

But  it  was  difficult  for  Si  to  restrain  his  impatience.  The 
forward  movement  of  the  army  was  all  too  slow  for  him. 
His  heart  beat  high  with  ambitious  expectation,  undis- 
turbed by  a  thought  of  the  danger  and  the  awful  scenes 
that  were  soon  to  destroy  the  bright  illusion. 

After  days  of  creeping  along  and  picketing  and  skirmish- 
ing, the  army  struck  "something  soHd,"  as  Shorty  had 
predicted.  Then  another  day  was  occupied  in  making  the 
necessar^^  dispositions  for  battle.  Arms  were  cleaned  and 
•put  in  order.     Cartridges  were  carefully  inspected,   and 


GETTING  READY  FOR  THE  FIGHT. 


391 


such  as  had  become  wet  and  unserviceable  were  cast  away 
and  replaced  by  others.  Batteries  were  put  in  position, 
with  the  chests  of  limbers  and  caissons  filled  with  powder, 
ball  and  fixed  ammunition  in  all  the  various  forms  of 
grape,  canister  and  shell.  'Hospitals  were  established  in 
the  rear;  musicians  and  other  non-combatants  were  de- 
tailed to  bear  the  stretchers,  attend  the  ambulances,  and 
otherwise  assist  in  the  w^ork  of  caring  for  the  wounded ; 
medical  stores  were  unpacked,  and  medicines,  instruments 
and  countless  rolls  of  bandages  placed  at  hand  for  use. 
Provision  trains  were 

brought    up    and    ra-  ^  _       ^-^    , 

tions  issued  to  the  sol- 
diers. None  could  tell 
how  many  days  would 
elapse  before  their  hav- 
ersacks might  again  be 
filled.  The  troops  rest- 
ed quietly  in  line  of 
battle  in  their  desig- 
nated positions,  calmly 
awaiting  the  storm 
which  was  to  burst 
on  the  following  day. 
There  lives  no  man 
whose  heart  would  not 
at  such  a  time  beat 
with  hope  and  anx- 
ious fear. 

The  200th  Indiana  spent  the  day  on  picket.  Company  Q 
occupying  the  extreme  outposts  at  an  exposed  point.  All 
the  rail  fences  in  the  vicinit}'  were  quickly  converted  into 
little  V-shaped  barricades,  behind  each  of  which  two  or 
three  men  were  stationed.  These  were  a  partial  protec- 
tion against  musket  balls,  but  none  whatever  against 
artillery. 


BEHIMD  THE  RAILS. 


392  A  CONFEDERATE   '' FEELER.'' 

Within  one  of  these  frail  shelters  lay  Corporal  Klegga-ud 
Shorty,  watching  the  enemy  on  the  hills  a  mile  away. 
Eager  and  alert,  they  lay  hour  after  hour,  with  ready  mus- 
kets, intent  upon  the  duty  assigned  them. 

Si  was  less  talkative  than  usual.  He  was,  no  doubt, 
just  as  anxious  as  ever  for  a  fight,  but  he  did  not  have  so 
much  to  say  about  it.  In  fact  he  didn't  say  anything. 
Matters  had  begun  to  look  serious,  and  beseemed  quite  con- 
tent now  to  let  them  take  their  course,  without  any  desire 
to  crowd  them.  There  was  now  and  then  an  exchange  of 
shots,  although  the  distance  rendered  them  harmless. 

But  along  in  the  afternoon  something  came  from  the 
other  side  that  did  reach.  A  rebel  battery  could  plainly  be 
seen  on  a  high  piece  of  ground  far  to  the  front,  but  up  to 
that  time  it  had  remained  quiet.  At  last  the  cannoneers 
thought  they  would  send  over  a  ''feeler."  There  was  a 
belching  of  smoke,  a  boom  and  the  shrill  scream  of  a  flying 
shell.  Si's  heart  leaped  into  his  throat  as  it  came  nearer 
and  nearer  with  its  aifrighting  sound.  Its  flight  occupied 
only  a  few  seconds,  but  it  seemed  to  Si  that  it  lasted  till 
sometime  in  the  next  w^eek. 

The  well-timed  missile  struck  almost  at  the  apex  of  the 
V  and  instantly  exploded,  tearing  up  the  ground,  shatter- 
ing the  rails  into  kindling  wood,  and  sending  the  fragments 
flying  in  every  direction.  For  a  moment  Si  and  his  com- 
rade were  paralyzed  by  the  noise  and  shock  of  the  ex- 
plosion. A  shower  of  earth  and  splinters  fell  upon  them, 
but  they  received  no  serious  injury.  They  escaped  in  the 
same  unaccountable  way  as  did  thousands  of  others  from 
peril  equally  great. 

But  the  unabridged  dictionary  does  not  supply  any 
words  that  can  adequately  express  the  degree  of  panicky 
demoralization  that  for  the  moment  took  entire  possession 
of  Si  and  Shorty.  Both  of  them  together  did  not  have 
sand  enough  left  to  stock  the  digestive  apparatus  of  a 
chicken.    Many  will  recall  similar  moments  during  th^ 


A  PARDONABLE   PANIC. 


S93 


experience  of  those  years.    The  writer  enters  a  pleA  of 
guilty  for  himself  on  more  than  one  occasion. 

Ninety-nine  men  in  every  hundred  would  have  done  just 
a.s  our  Hoosier  friends  did.  True,  with  the  bursting  of  the 
shell  and  the  harmless  dissipation  of  the  fragments,  thr 
danger  was  over,  but  without  stopping  to  reason  this  out 
they  acted  upon  the  natural  impulse  to  get  away  from 
there  immediately,  country  or  no  country,  and  they  did. 
Si  soon  came  to  himself,  and  when  he  realized  that  he 
w^as  actually  scared 
and  running  away,  he 
stopped.  He  knew 
that  would  never  do 
for  the  "  model  sol- 
dier "  of  the  200th 
Indiana. 

"  Now,  Corporal 
Klegg, "  he  said  to 
himself,  "d'ye  know 
ye 're  jest  makin'  the 
biggest  kind  of  a  fool 
o'  yerself  ?  If  ye  gits  I 
skeered  this  way  fer 
only  one  o'  them  'ere 
shells,  what '11  ye  do 
in  a  big  fight  when 
the  air  's  thick  with 

'em  ?  "  A  HASTY  EVACUATION. 

''Hold  on.  Shorty,"  he  shouted, 
there  ain't  nobody  hurt.  Let's  go  back!  I  don't  b'lieve 
'nuther  o'  them  durned  things  '11  hit  that  place,  no  more'n 
lightnin'  strikes  twice  'n  the  same  spot." 

''Course  we  will,"  replied  Shorty,  but  his  voice  quivered 
a  little.  "It  didn't  skeer  me  any.  I  jest  come  'long  with  ye 
ter  keep  ye  f 'm  fallin'  back  too  fur." 


894        THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE. 

Si  did  not  question  Shorty's  assertion,  but  he  wondered 
if  his  comrade  had  exactly  told  the  truth. 

So  they  went  back,  rebuilt  their  barricade  as  well  as  they 
could  with  the  fragments,  and  resumed  their  watch.  But 
it  was  a  long  time  before  Si's  ears  ceased  to  ring  and  his 
heart  to  thump  against  his  blouse. 

In  the  evening  the  200th  was  relieved  by  another  regi- 
ment, and  ordered  back  in  rear  of  the  main  line  to  cook 
supper.  Just  before  leaving  the  post  Shorty  gathered  up 
an  armful  of  the  splinters  that  were  lying  upon  the  ground. 

''What  ye  goin'  to  do  wnth  them?"  asked  Si. 

"Take  'em  back  to  make  a  fire  with,"  replied  Shorty. 
*'Them  chaps  over  yonder  done  a  sort  o'  good  turn  fer  us 
arter  all!" 

Darkness  settled  down  upon  the  two  armies  that  lay  so 
near,  each  having  accepted  the  other's  challenge  to  mortal 
combat.  Ever^^  man  was  intent  upon  v/hat  the  morrow 
would  bring  forth. 

The  veteran  soldiers  had  learned  to  give  themselves  over 
to  rest  and  sleep  under  any  and  all  circumstances,  with 
little  thouglft  for  the  future.  Few  of  the  new  troops  on 
the  eve  of  such  a  momentous  struggle,  amid  the  excitement 
of  the  hour,  were  able  to  calm  their  thoughts  so  that 
slumber  came  to  their  eyelids.  Under  orders  to  leap  to 
their  feet  at  the  slightest  alarm,  the  men  threw  themselves 
down  without  removing  their  shoes  or  even  unclasping 
their  cartridge-belts.  Each  had  his  musket  beside  him, 
and  lay  with  ears  strained  to  catch  the  smallest  sound  of 
danger. 

The  night  was  cold.  There  was  a  keen  and  biting  air, 
and  a  covering  of  white  frost  spread  itself  over  the  blank- 
ets, as  the  soldiers  lay  upon  the  ground,  v^ith  nothing  be- 
tween them  and  the  stars  above  that  winked  responsive 
to  their  wakeful  eyes. 

Shorty  would  probably  have  slept  fairly  well  if  his 
**pard"  had  permitted  him  to  do  so.    But  Si  fidgeted  and 


si's  wakefulness.  395 

shivered  with  the  cold,  turned  from  side  to  side,  and  kept 
pulling  off  the  blanket  from  his  dozing  comrade. 

'*  Wish  ye'd  lie  still  'n'  let  a  feller  sleep  ["growled  Short j. 
*' Ye'll  have  'nuff  to  do  termorrer  'n'  ye  better  keep  quiet 
while  ye've  got  a  chance !" 

''I'd  like  ter  do  it,  pard,"  said  Si,  *'jest  ter  'commodate 
ye ;  but  I'm  thinkin'  'bout  the  fight  we're  going  to  have, 
'n'  'bout  mother  'n'  sister  Marier  'n'  all  the  rest  o'  the 
folks.    I  jest  can't  help  it,  Shorty ! ' ' 

''Ain't  weakenin',  ar'  ye.  Si?" 

"Not  by  a  jug-full.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  do  any  bragging 
but  I  tell  ye  I'll  jest  die  'n  my  tracks  'fore  I'll  show  the 
white  feather.  That  shell  bustin'  under  the  rails  today 
would  ha'  skeered  old  Gin'ral  Jackson  hisself  for  a  minnit, 
but  ye  know  it  didn't  take  us  long  ter  git  over  it.  I'm 
gittin'  myself  braced  up  big  fer  what's  comin'." 

"Wall,"  said  Shorty,  "you  jest  keep  on  bracin' yerself 
up  while  I  git  'nother  little  cat -nap." 

Shorty  dropped  off  into  another  doze  while  Si  lay  with 
his  eyes  wide  open,  looking  up  at  the  stars,  and  wonder- 
ing how  he  would  act  when  he  got  into  the  battle.  He 
felt  that  he  had  little  to  fear,  provided  he  did  not  lose  con- 
trol of  himself  Hitherto  he  had  never  imagined  a  bullet 
was  going  to  hit  him,  but  now  that  he  was  brought  face 
to  face  with  the  dread  reality,  he  could  not  help  wonder- 
ing if  he  would  be  killed  or  wounded ;  and  then  how  badly 
his  mother  and  Annabel  would  feel.  He  thought,  too,  of 
Shorty,  and  wondered  if  he  would  get  through  all  right. 
He  would  almost  as  soon  be  hit  himself  as  to  lose  Shorty. 
Then  Si  thought  of  all  his  past  life,  and  hoped  he  hadn't 
been  very  wicked.  He  ran  over  in  his  mind  some  of  the 
scripture  verses  he  had  learned  in  Sunday  school  when  a 
lad,  and  even  repeated  the  "Now  I  lay  me,"  just  to  see  if 
he  had  forgotten  it.  He  promised  himself  that  if  he  got 
out  of  this  fight  he  would  never  crawl  under  the  sutler's 
tent  again,  nor  steal  an3rthing  from  the  colonel's  mess- 


396  "wake  up,  men!" 

chest,  nor  play  chuck-a-luck,  nor  swear.  As  to  the  last  he 
could  not  avoid  a  mental  reservation,  in  case  he  v^^as  de- 
tailed again  to  drive  a  mule  team.  As  he  lay  thinking 
over  all  these  things,  the  crack  of  a  musket  on  the  picket- 
line  rang  out  sharply  in  the  clear  night  air. 

"D'ye  hear  that,  Shorty?"  he  said,  as  he  nudged  his 
comrade  with  his  elbow. 

Si  and  Shorty  seized  their  guns  and  leaped  to  their  feet. 
Whole  battalions  arose  as  if  b^^  magic,  and  in  a  moment 
were  standing  in  serried  lines.  It  was  a  false  alarm,  and 
after  a  time  the  soldiers  lay  down  again  to  w^ait  for  the 
morn. 

It  was  a  weary  night  to  Si.  His  thoughts  w^ould  have 
filled  a  volume.  He  longed  for  the  day,  although  his  feel- 
ings were  not  unmingled  with  a  dread  of  what  that  day 
must  bring  to  many,  and  perhaps  to  him.  He  wanted  the 
battle  to  come  on,  and  yet  he  would  be  glad  when  it  was 
over. 

Long  before  the  dull,  gray  dawn  of  that  December  morn- 
ing the  orderly  of  Company  Q  passed  quietly  along  the 
line,  here  and  there  touching  a  prostrate  form,  and  utter- 
ing words  of  command  in  those  low,  suppressed  tones 
that  always  awakened  the  soundest  sleeper. 

"Wake  up,  men !    Fall  in  promptly !" 

There  was  no  blast  of  bugle  or  twang  of  drum,  for  the 
solid  and  alert  battalions  of  the  enemy  lay  but  a  short 
distance  away.  They,  too,  were  astir  betimes,  for  each 
army  was  preparing  to  spring  like  a  tiger  upon  the  other. 

When  the  orderly  aroused  the  compan^^  Si  and  Shorty 
were  quick  to  obey  the  summons.  Rolling  up  their  blankets 
they  threw  them  over  their  shoulders,  took  their  places  in 
line,  and  were  ready  for  the  duties  before  them,  w^hatever 
they  might  be.  Until  daylight  the  regiment  stood  in  battle 
array.  To  the  right  and  left  in  long  lines,  stretched  regi- 
ments and  brigades  and  divisions.  Batteries  were  in 
position,  with  every  man  at  his  post.     Cavalrymen  and 


THE  STORM  BURSTS.  397 

general  officers  and  their  staffs  stood  beside  their  saddled 
horses,  ready  to  spring  into  their  seats. 

At  length  the  darkness  melted  away  and  the  dawn 
appeared.  When  it  was  fairly  light  the  soldiers  were  allowed 
to  break  ranks  and  partake  of  a  hasty  breakfast.  Orderlies 
and  staff  officers  galloped  hither  and  thither  with  orders 
for  the  movement  soon  to  begin.  Few  of  the  men  were 
able  to  procure  the  luxury  of  a  cup  of  coffee,  for  the  time 
was  short  and  the  command  to  fall  in  was  momentarily 
expected.  Details  were  sent  to  fill  the  canteens  with  water. 
This  would  be  needed,  and  no  other  opportunity  might  be 
afforded. 

Si  and  Shorty,  sitting  upon  the  ground  with  all  their 
equipments  on,  ate  with  a  keen  relish  their  hardtack  and 
uncooked  bacon.  Si's  heart  beat  with  anxious  expecta- 
tion when  he  heard  now  and  then  a  distant  shot,  and  saw 
on  every  hand  the  constantly  increasing  activity  in  the 
work  of  getting  ready  for  battle. 

''Wonder  w^hich  side  's  goin'  ter  pitch  in  first?"  he  said 
to  Shorty. 

'' Dunno  nothin'  'bout  it,"  was  the  reply.  " The  ossifers 
don't  tell  them  't  carries  the  muskets  what  they're  goin' 
ter  do.  We  jest  have  ter  'bey  orders  'n'  trust  ter  luck. 
Looks  'sif  the  gin'rals  was  each  on  'emstan'in' with  a  chip 
on  his  shoulder,  n'  a-darin'  t'other  to  knock  it  off!" 

One  of  the  chips  w^as  soon  knocked  off,  and  it  was  the 
rebels  that  did  it.  While  the  dispositions  were  being  made 
for  an  attack  by  the  Union  army,  the  storm  burst  with  the 
suddenness  of  a  thunderbolt.  From  the  thick  cedars  away 
to  the  right  there  came  the  loud  boom  of  artillery  and  the 
''  long  roll  "  of  musketry  volleys.  Louder  and  louder 
grew  the  noise  of  battle,  as  the  attack  extended  along  the 
line. 

"That's  themusicye've  been  so  mighty  anxious  to  hear," 
said  Shorty  to  Corporal  Klegg,  as  the  200th  Indiana  stood 
awaiting  orders  to  go  in.     *'  How  d'ye  like  it  ?" 


398  A  CONFLICT  OF  EMOTIONS. 

''I  hain't  got  the  hang  o'  the  tune  yet,"  replied  Si;  "tell 
ye  better  arter  a  while." 

As  he  listened  to  that  terrible  roar— that  no  man  who 
has  heard  it  can  ever  forget — Si  clenched  his  teeth  and 
seized  his  musket  with  a  firmer  grip.  His  cheek  lost  for 
the  time  some  of  its  ruddy  glow,  and  it  must  not  be  put 
dowm  to  his  discredit  if  his  fingers  w^ere  a  little  shaky.  He 
struggled  hard  to  conceal  all  symptoms  of  w^eakness.  He 
was  afraid  Shorty  and  the  rest  of  the  boys  w^ould  see  his 
trembling  hands  and  hear  the  beating  of  his  heart. 

But  although  Si  did  not  realize  the  fact,  he  was  secure  from 
observation.  Like  himself,  each  of  his  comrades  was  oc- 
cupied with  his  own  thoughts  and  feelings,  without  be- 
stowing any  attention  upon  the  mental  or  physical 
sensations  of  anybody  else. 

Si  was  determined  to  be,  and  he  was,  brave.  The 
blanched  cheek  and  quivering  limbs  were  not  signs  of 
cowardice.  At  that  moment  he  would  have  charged  upon 
a  line  of  bristling  bayonets,  or  leaped  over  the  parapet  of 
a  hostile  fort,  into  the  very  smoke  and  fire  of  the  enemy's 
guns.  He  was  simply  going  through  the  struggle,  that 
every  soldier  experienced,  between  his  mental  and  physical 
natures.  The  instinct  of  the  latter  at  such  a  time — and 
w^hat  old  soldier  does  not  know  it  ? — was  to  seek  a  place 
of  safety,  without  a  moment's  delay.  To  fully  subdue  this 
feeling  by  the  power  of  the  will  w^as  not,  in  most  cases,  as 
easy  a  matter  as  might  be  imagined  by  those  who  have 
never  been  called  upon  to  "face  the  music."  Some  there 
were  who  never  could  do  it. 

Shorty,  older  and  less  excitable  by  nature,  took  things 
rather  more  coolly  than  Si.  Although  he  had  never  seen  a 
battle,  he  had  heard  and  thought  enough  about  it  to 
have  a  tolerably  definite  idea  of  its  character,  and  was 
therefore,  in  a  measure  prepared  for  it,  now  that  it  was 
about  to  become  a  reality  to  him.  Si  had  never  gone  as 
far  as  that.    He  knew  in  a  general  way  that  in  a  great 


TRYING  MOMENTS.  399 

battle  many  men  were  killed,  and  many  more  were  wounded, 
but  he  thought  only  of  the  excitement,  and  the  glory  of 
heroic  deeds  for  his  jountry.  He  had  enlisted  to  be  a  sol- 
dier, and  considered  it  essential  that  he  must  do  some 
fighting.  If  his  imagination  had  ever  drawn  the  picture 
at  all,  it  fell  far  short  of  the  actual  scene,  as  he  was  soon 
to  view  it. 

At  this  time  Si  was  passing  through  the  most  trying  mo- 
ments of  a  soldier's  life.  Standing  in  his  place,  holding  his 
musket  in  a  tightening  grasp,  listening  to  the  sound  of 
battle  that  came  nearer  and  nearer,  looking  at  the  smoke 
that  circled  above  the  trees,  he  awaited,  with  a  suspense 
that  language  cannot  portray,  the  word  of  command  for 
the  200th  Indiana  to  engage  the  enemy. 

The  volley  that  reaps  its  ghastly  harvest,  the  charge 
amidst  shouts  of  wild  excitement,  the  desperate  struggle 
of  brave  men — these,  when  every  nerve  and  fiber  of  mind 
and  body  is  strung  to  its  utmost  tension,  bring  no  such 
crucial  trial  as  the  throbbing  emotions  that  immediately 
precede  the  clash  of  arms. 

To  Si  and  Shorty  it  was  no  occasion  for  hilarity.  As 
months  and  years  passed,  and  they  became  accustomed  to 
such  scenes,  they  v^ould  learn  to  be  cheerful  and  even  mirth- 
ful, on  occasion,  in  the  presence  of  death  in  its  most  hid- 
eous forms,  but  not  now.  These  were  solemn  moments, 
when  the  wonted  sound  of  laughter  was  hushed,  and  it 
seemed  a  jest,  would  be  sacrilege. 

Was  it  for  lack  of  manliness  that  Si  wiped  a  tear  or 
two  fi-om  his  cheek  ?  Let  him  who  would  answer  yea,  first 
be  sure  that  his  own  eyes  would  not  moisten  at  such  a 
time,  as  there  sweeps  through  his  mind  the  rushing  tide  of 
hopes  and  fears  and  patriotic  devotion  and  thoughts  of 
life  and  far-off  loved  ones.  The  brave  man  has  a  true  and 
tender  heart.    Tears  are  neither  cowardly  nor  unmanly. 

'* Shorty,"  said  Si — and  his  voice  was  low  and  tremu- 
lous—''I  b'lieve  in  the  good  Lord  't  mother  used  ter  teach 


400 


ORDERED  IN. 


me  ter  pray  to.  I'm  afeard  you  'n'  me  has  kinder  lost 
our  grip  on  such  things,  'n'  don't  desarve  ver^^  much,  but 
mebbe  He'll  be  good  to  both  on  us  toda3\  I  hope  He'll 
give  us  lots  of  sand  to  stand  up  to  't ;  I  keer  more  'bout 
that  'n  I  do  'bout  the  other.  I'm  willin  ter  die — 'f  I  have 
to— but  I  don't  want  ter  be  no  coward.  Ef  ye  see  me  with 
my  back  to  the  rebs  ye'll  do  me  the  biggest  kind  of  a  favor 
by  jest  puttin'  a  bullet  through  my  head.    And,  Shorty, 

ifIs/2on;c/bekilled,V 
you  git  home  all  rights 
you'll  tell  mother  that 
I  didn't-" 

A  staff  officer  comes 
galloping  up  anc}  de- 
livers a  hasty  message 
to  the  colonel  of  the 
200th.  ''There!"  he 
says,  indicating  with 
outstretched  arm  the 
point  w^here  the  com- 
bat seems  to  be  rag- 
ing with  the  greatest 
iury.  Every  man  in 
the  ranks  knows  what 
that  order  is,  and  in- 
stinctively straightens 
"there!"  up.    Every  face  bears 

the  impress  of  determination  to  obey  the  call  oi  duty.  The 
colonel  springs  into  the  saddle  and  his  words  ring  out 
sharp  and  clear : 

**  Attention— Battalion !" 

The  order  is  scarcely  necessary,  for  the  soldiers  have 
already  dressed  the  line  and  stand  with  the  magic  touch 
of  elbows,  waiting  for  the  next  command. 
"Load  at  will— Load!" 
Hands  fly  to  cartridgerboxes,  teeth  tear  aw^ay  the  paper. 


AT  THE  EDGE  OF  THE  STORM.  401 

powder  and  ball  are  charged  into  the  muzzles.  See  the 
rammers  leap  from  their  sockets,  and  how  they  ring  as 
the  bullets  are  rammed  home!  Back  to  their  places  go 
the  rammers,  and  caps  are  put  upon  the  nipples.  All  this 
is  but  the  work  of  a  moment.  The  regiment  is  ready  to 
meet  the  enemy. 

While  the  men  are  loading  the  colonel  rides  along  the 
line,  uttering  words  of  encouragement  and  cheer.  He  tells 
them  that  he  knows  every  m_an  will  do  his  duty,  and  that 
the  flag  of  the  200th  Indiana  will  come  out  unstained,  ex- 
cept by  the  blood,  if  need  be,  of  its  defenders.  The  men 
shout  in  response. 

Already  the  tremor  of  hands  is  gone.  The  pallor  of  face 
has  given  way  to  the  flush  of  excitement.  Eyes  are  kind- 
ling with  animation. 

''  Battalion  I  Shoulder  — Arms  !  Right  — Face  !  Right 
shoulder  shift— Arms  !    Forward— Double-quick— March !" 

The  colonel  plunges  his  spurs  into  the  flanks  of  his  horse 
and  dashes  ahead.  The  soldiers  follow  on  the  run.  On 
and  on  they  go,  toward  those  historic  cedars  upon  the 
right,  where  the  enemy  deli vered  his  vv^ell-nigh  fatal  stroke. 
On,  through  the  wild  confusion  that  always  reigns  supreme 
in  the  rear  of  an  army  staggering  under  such  a  blow. 

Still  on  goes  the  200th,  threading  its  way  through  the 
strugghng  mass  of  teams  smarting  under  the  lash  of  yell- 
mg,  half-crazed  drivers ;  horsemen  vainly  striving  to  bring 
order  out  of  chaos ;  and  demoralized  stragglers  who  have 
fled  or  become  detached  from  their  regiments  and  are  seek- 
ing personal  safety  at  the  rear. 

Ah !  here  are  ambulances  freighted  with  the  mangled  and 
dj^ng.  Others  are  being  borne  from  the  field  upon  stretchers. 
The  men  of  the  200th  have  never  looked  on  such  scenes 
before.  They  gaze  upon  the  palhd  faces  and  bleeding  forms 
of  war's  victims.  There  is  an  involuntary  shudder,  and 
a  shrinking  from  the  agonizing  spectacle.  But  it  is  only 
for  an  instant,  and  they  press  forward. 


402 


WOUNDED  STREAM  TO  THE  REAR. 


Hurrying  past  them  go  hundreds  of  brave  men  with 
blood  streaming  from  their  faces,  or  flowing  from  pierced 
limbs  and  bodies,  but  3^et  able  to  make  their  way  to  the 
rear  in  quest  of  aid  to  stanch  their  wounds.  How  tenderly 
they  help  one  another  in  their  hour  of  need.  See  that 
soldier  with  an  arm  hanging  broken  and  helpless,  support- 
ing with  the  other  a  comrade  who  hobbles  with  a  shattered 
leg.  Here  is  another,  limping  painfully,  but  leading  care- 
fullj^  along  one  whom  blood  and  grime  and  smoke  have 
for  the  time  made  sightless. 

With  what  glad  shouts  of  welcome  these  maimed  and 


INTO  THE  BATTLE. 


bleeding  heroes,  whose  breasts  are  yet  heaving  with  the 
emotions  of  the  conflict,  greet  the  fresh,  stalwart  men  of 
the  200th,  pushing  toward  the  front ! 

''How's  it  goin'  ?"  asks  Si  Klegg  of  one  of  them. 

"Its  mighty  hot  in  there !"  is  the  reply.  *' The  boys  are 
hangin'  on,  but  they  need  ye  bad.  The  woods  is  full  o* 
Johnnies,  but  we're  goin'  to  whip  'em !" 

"Go  for  'em!"  shouts  another,  "Give  'em  the  best  ve've 

got.'; 

Si  is  beginning  to  pant  for  breath,  from  the  long  double- 
quick,  but  he  had  rather  a  cannon-ball  would  take  off  his 


NOW  THE  DEADLY  MISSILES. 


403 


head  than  that  he  should  appear  a  laggard.  Straining 
every  nerve  he  keeps  his  place  in  the  eager  rush  of  the 
200th  to  succor  the  reeling  line. 

On  and  yet  on !  The  rattle  of  musketry  becomes  more 
and  more  distinct.  They  begin  to  smell  the  smoke  of 
battle.  A  shell  comes  screaming  through  the  air  and  bursts 
over  the  hurrying  column.  The  fragments  hurtle  on  every 
side.     The  droning  buzz  of  well-spent  bullets  is  heard. 

''Steady,  men!   Steady!"  exclaim  the  officers. 

They  have  just  reach- 
ed the  edge  of  the  awful 
storm.  They  begin  to 
see  the  bodies  of  the 
dead,  lying  torn  and 
mangled,  upon  the 
ground.  They  instinct- 
ively turn  their  eyes 
away,  appalled  at  the 
sight. 

It  requires  little  effort 
to  display  magnificent 
courage  a  hundred  miles 
away  from  the  scene  of 
carnage,  whh,  perhaps, 
no  prospect  that  the  dis- 
tance will  ever  be  less- 
ened between  the  battle- 
field and  him  who  talks  "steady,  men ! " 
BO  grandly  of  capturing  batteries  and  sweeping  away  the 
blazing  battalions  of  the  foe.  It  is  a  very  different  thing 
when  a  man  is  brought  face  to  face  with  the  question  of 
keeping  his  feet  from  turning  around  and  pointing  the 
wrong  way,  as  he  moves  into  the  vortex  of  death,  amidst 
the  deafening  roar  of  conflict,  while  swift  and  deadly 
missiles  fill  the  air,  and  the  bodies  of  his  fast-falling  com- 
rades thickly  strew  the  sfround. 


404?  THE  FALL  OF  A  COMRADE. 

Still  on,  and  the  bullets  begin  their  fatal  work.  Now-, 
Corporal  Klegg,  we  shall  see  what  kind  of  stuff  you  are 
made  of! 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Si  and  Shorty  are  Tried  ix  the  Fire  and  Prove  to  be  Pure  Gold 

NOW  the  200th  Indiana  changes  from  its  movement  by 
the  flank.  Still  on  the  double-quick  the  regiment 
forms  in  battle  array.  There  is  a  momentary  pause  to 
dress  the  line,  and  then  it  moves  rapidly  but  steadily  for- 
ward. Ever}^  eye  is  fixed  toward  the  front.  Everj^  face  is 
rigid  v^ath  a  determination  not  to  flinch  before  any  danger. 

More  thickly  fly  the  bullets,  and  more  angrily  they  hiss 
through  the  air.  The  first  man  falls.  A  swift  buUei- 
strikes  him  squarely  in  the  forehead  and  he  goes  down,  a  life^ 
less  heap.  His  comrades  on  either  side  for  an  instant  shud- 
der and  look  aghast. 

Who,  himself  mortal,  and  liable  the  next  moment  to  meet 
a  similar  fate,  can  look  upon  such  a  scene  without  a 
tremor?  A  brave  fellow-soldier,  an  associate  from  boy- 
hood, a  loved  messmate,  perchance  a  brother,  presses 
forward  by  your  side,  facing  the  pitiless  storm.  You  feel 
the  touch  of  his  elbow,  and  your  own  courage  is  strength- 
ened by  his  presence  and  comradeship.  The  next  moment 
his  bleeding  body  lies  at  your  feet.  How  3^our  heart  leaps ; 
how  keen  the  pang  that  pierces  your  breast !  One  quick 
glance,  and  you  are  borne  along  by  the  rushing  tide  that 
sweeps  on  and  on.  Soon  your  mind  and  heart  are  full 
of  other  thoughts,  as  you  enter  the  whirlwind  of  battle, 
and  death's  sickle  is  busy  around  you  reaping  its  fearful 
harvest.    But  when  the  fight  is  done,  around  the  camp-fire, 


405 

in  the  narrowing  circle  of  the  "mess,"  on  the  march,  or 
lying  wrapped  in  your  blanket,  tender  memories  will 
come  to  you  of  him  who  fell  by  your  side.  Nor  can  the 
thrilling  emotions  of  that  moment  when  he  was  stricken 
down  be  effaced  by  all  the  years  of  life's  longest  span ! 

Another  falls,  and  another!  Quick  as  the  lightning's 
flash  speed  the  missiles  upon  their  awful  errand.  Soon  a 
dozen — twenty — are  missing  from  the  ranks.  As  you  push 
on,  cast  your  eye  backward  for  an  instant  and  you  may  see 
them.  Some  are  lying  motionless.  They  will  answer  no 
more  at  roll-call.  Others,  pierced  through  body  or  limb, 
are  writhing  in  pain,  while  the  fast-flowing  life-streams 
redden  the  shuddering  earth.  Above  the  roar  of  the  con- 
flict groans  and  sharp  screams  of  agony  reach  the  ear. 

A  solid  cannon  shot  comes  rushing  through  the  air  with 
a  loud  ''zh-h-h-h."  It  plows  through  a  file,  front  and  rear, 
and  two  brave  heroes  lie  in  shapeless,  quivering  mass.  A 
well-timed  shell  plunges  into  the  ranks.  It  bursts  with 
deafening  sound,  and  half  a  score  of  men  are  scattered 
upon  the  ground,  torn  and  mangled  by  its  cruel  fragments. 

"Close  up,  men!" 

The  gaps  are  closed  and  the  panting  soldiers  push  for- 
ward. 

This  is  war,  in  all  its  dreadful  reality.  The  moving  can- 
vas has  at  last  brought  to  the  eyes  of  the  200th  Indiana 
the  picture  painted  in  its  most  lurid  colors. 

The  regiment  nears  the  spot  where  the  fight  is  raging. 
A  little  way  ahead,  dimly  seen  through  the  smoke  that 
now  hovers  over  the  field,  is  the  line  of  blue  wavering 
before  the  storm.  Bravely  and  well  those  fast  thinning 
ranks  have  stood  in  the  face  of  that  withering  blast.  But 
their  cartridge-boxes  are  well-nigh  empty.  Some  have 
fired  the  last  charge  and  have  fixed  bayonets,  determined 
to  die  rather  than  yield.  The  enemy  is  preparing  to  launch 
fresh  troops  upon  them,  and  without  speedy  succor  they 
must  be  overwhelmed.    Messengers  have  been  sent  in  hot 


406 

haste  to  hurry  forward  the  promised  relief.  Will  it  airive 
before  the  exultant  foe  hurls  his  eager  battalions  upon 
them  ? 

"  Forward,  my  brave  men ;  do  your  utmost !"  shouts  the 
colonel  of  the  200th.  All  along  the  line  officers  and  jnen 
catch  the  word.  A  loud  cheer  bursts  from  every  lip  as  they 
sweep  forward.  It  reaches  the  ears  -of  the  sorely-pressed 
men  at  the  front,  andthey  send  back  through  the  trembling 
air  glad  shouts  of  greeting. 

At  every  step  men  are  falling  before  the  leaden  hail.  Shot 
and  shell  tear  the  ranks,  or  go  crashing  through  the  trees 
above  and  around.  An  instant  the  line  wavers,  then 
rushes  over  the  ground  now  thickly  strewn  with  the  dead 
and  the  dying. 

Down  goes  the  colonel's  horse,  pierced  by  a  ball.  Spring- 
ing to  his  feet  the  officer  waves  his  sword  and  dashes 
ahead.  The  shouts  of  the  enemy  are  heard,  and  a  wild  yell 
of  defiance  is  sent  back  in  response. 

Twenty  paces  more — ten — five!  Lack  of  ammunition 
has  caused  the  fire  to  slacken.  Encouraged  by  this  the 
enem3r  is  preparing  to  charge.  Not  a  moment  is  to  be  lost. 
The  200th  Indiana  passes  through  the  decimated  ranks 
and  stands  face  to  face  with  the  foe.  As  the  colonel  steps 
to  the  rear  of  the  line  he  gives  hasty  command : 
' '  Battalion !    Ready— Aim— Fire ! ' ' 

With  blaze  and  roar  {ive  hundred  muskets  send  a  volleys 
of  bullets  that  causes  the  enemv  to  reel  and  stag^o^er. 
''Load  and  fire  at  will!" 

Now  it  is  work,  desperate  and  furious.  Every  man  feels 
that  his  own  life  may  depend  upon  the  rapidity  with  which 
he  delivers  his  fire.  Cartridges  and  ramrods  are  handled 
with  nimble  fingers.  Thick  and  fast  the  bullets  fly  into  the 
ranks  of  the  enemy. 

But  in  the  onward  rush  of  the  regiment  we  have  for 
the  moment  lost  sight  of  Corporal  Klegg  and  Shorty.  Let 
us  find  them  if  we  can,  amidst  the  smoke  and  din  and  car- 


TWO   BRAVE  BOYS. 


407 


nagc,  and  see  how  they  carry  themselves  in  this  trying 
ordeal. 

There,  side  by  side,  they  stand,  loading  and  firing  as 
coolly  as  if  they  were  veterans  of  a  hundred  battles.  Look 
upon  the  face  of  Si  and  you  will  see  pictured  there  what 
it  Avas  that  conquered  the  great  rebellion.  See  in  those 
flashing  eyes  and  firmly-set  lips  the  spirit  of  courage,  of 
unyielding  determination,  and  of  patriotic  devotion,  even 
to  the  supreme  sacrifice,  if  need  be,  of  life  itself.  There 
were  many  bo^'s  such 
as  he,  who  were  giants 
in  valiant  warfare  — 
heroes,  indeed,  who 
looked  unflinchingly  in 
the  face  of  death  on 
many  a  well  -  fought 
field. 

The  missiles  fly  around 
him  with  venomous  hiss 
and  patter  against  the 
trees,  but  he  seems  not 
to  hear  them  as  he  rams 
home  cartridge  after 
cartridge  and  fires  with 
careful  aim.  The  fall  of  : 
a  loved  comrade,  struck 


by  a  fatal  shot,  or  the 
sharp    cry    of    anguish 


'pluck. 
from  one  who  has  been  torn 
by  shell  or  bullet,  draws  his  attention  for  an  instant. 
There  is  a  quick,  tender  glance  of  sorrow,  a  word  of  sym- 
pathy, and  again  he  is  absorbed,  with  an  intensity  that 
no  words  can  express,  in  the  awful  duty  of  the  hour.  Every 
nerve  is  at  its  highest  tension.  He  has  no  thought  for 
himself,  but  now  and  then  he  turns  his  eye  to  see  if  Shorty 
is  still  untouched.  It  has  been  no  time  for  talk ;  but,  stand- 
ing together  in  the  fiery  breath  of  battle,  they  have  ex- 


408  CONFIDENCE  NOT  MISPLACED. 

changed  now  and  then  a  word  of  cheer.  Bound  together 
by  ties  of  companionship  that  none  but  soldiers  can  know, 
each  holds  the  life  of  the  other  as  dear  as  his  own. 

Shorty  is  cool  and  deliberate,  though  scarcely  less  activt" 
than  Si  in  all  his  movements.  He  has  never  felt  any  real 
doubt  of  himself  His  experience  with  the  world  all  his 
life  had  been  somewhat  of  the  ''rough-and-tumble"  sort, 
and  there  had  been  occasions  when  his  personal  courage 
was  thoroughly  tested.  His  feeling  for  Si  was  like  that  of 
a  brother,  and  while  he  had  unbounded  confidence  in  his 
good  intentions,  he  had  not  been  without  a  fear  that  his 
*'pard"  might  be  one  of  the  many  whose  courage  would 
fail  at  the  critical  moment.  Ever  since  they  were  arouse(5 
from  their  bivouac  he  had  kept  an  anxious  ejQ  upon  him, 
and  it  was  with  a  keen  satisfaction  that  he  noticed  hist 
gallant  bearing.  An  occasional  glance  at  the  face  of  his 
comrade  was  enough  to  assure  him  that  he  was  made  ol 
true  metal.  ] 

"That  feller  was  'bout  right  when  he  said  'twas  mighty 
hot  in  here,"  says  Si,  as  he  rams  a  bullet  into  his  musket, 
"but  I'm  gittin'  kinder  used  to  it  now,  'n'  I  don't  keer  fei 
it  a  bit." 

Si  takes  a  cap  from  his  pouch,  places  it  upon  the  nipple, 
and  blazes  away. 

"Thar!"  he  says,  "I  don't  like  ter  think  'ti'm  here  doin' 
my  best  to  kill  people,  but  I  jest  hope  that  bullet  '11  hit  th^ 
man  't  broke  Bill  Brown's  leg  abitago.  Bill  's  sittin'  'hind 
that  tree  tryin'  ter  tie  up  his  leg.  I'd  like  ter  go  'n'  help 
him,  but  we've  got  ter  whale  them  Johnnies  fust."  And 
another  ball  from  Si's  gun  speeds  upon  its  mission. 

The  tremor "  and  unsteadiness  that  Si  showed  in  the 
morning  have  entircK^  disappeared.  As  he  had  told  Shorty, 
he  is  now  "getting  used  to  it."  His  tongue  is  once  more 
loosened  and  he  finds  relief  from  the  strain  upon  him  in 
talking  to  Shorty  in  his  accustomed  way,  still  loading  and 
firing  with  unabated  zeal. 


THEY  WOULD  NOT   LIE  DOWN.  409 

**I  was  afraid  we'd  be  too  late  gittin'  here" — and  Si  in- 
terrupts himself  to  bite  a  cartridge — ''  'n'  I  tell  ye  we  was 
jest  in  the  nick  o'  time,  for  them  boys  was  mighty  near  out 
o'  am'nition.  One  on  'em  told  me  he  hadn't  a  catridge 
left." 

''Take  that,  'n'  see  how  ye  like  it!"— and  Si  pulls  the 
trigger  again. 

''I've  emptied  my  box  a-ready,"  he  goes  on,  '"n'  I'm 
usin'  the  catridges  I  brung  'long  in  my  pocket.  Mighty 
glad  IVe  got  'em,  too.  I've  been  aimin'  low,  jest  's  the 
cap'n  told  us,  'n'  I'd  orter  've  hit  forty  or  fifty  of  the  ras- 
kils  by  this  time.  I  sh'd  think  what's  left  on  'em  'd  begin 
ter  think  'bout  lightin'  out  o'  there.  Mebbe  we'll  git  a 
chance  purty  soon  to  give  'em the  bay'net.  I  feel  's  though 
I'd  jest  like  ter  charge  'em  once." 

''P'raps  the  rebs  '11  do  the  chargin',"  says  Shorty,  who 
has  taken  scarcely  part  enough  in  the  talk  to  make  it  a 
conversation. 

The  officers  had  ordered  the  men  to  lie  down,  that  they 
might  be  less  exposed  to  the  enemy's  fire.  But  Si  will  not 
lie  down. 

''I'm  goin'  ter  stan'  up  to  it,"  he  says  to  Shorty,  "I  kin 
shoot  jest  twicet  's  fast  that  way  's  I  kin  lyin'  down ;  I 
ain't  goin'  ter  git  'hind  no  tree,  nuther.  I'll  let  the  ossifers 
have  the  trees.  They  'pear  ter  want  'em  more  'n  I  do.  It 
looks  's  il  a  man  v^^as  afeard,  'n'  I  know  I  ain't.'' 

This  feeling  was  common  to  new  troops  in  their  first 
fight.  In  their  minds  there  was  an  odium  CGunected  with 
the  idea  of  seeking  cover.  It  was  too  much  like  showing 
the  white  feather.  But  in  the  fullness  of  time  they  all  got 
over  this  foolish  notion.  Experience  taught  them  that  it 
w^as  the  part  of  wisdom,  and  not  inconsistent  with  the 
highest  courage,  to  protect  themselves  when  opportunity 
was  afforded.  They  found  that  it  was  a  good  thing  to 
interpose  trees  and  stumps  and  stone  walls  between  their 
bodies  and  the  enemy,  while  loading  their  pieces. 


410  SHARP,   HOT  WORK. 

"  Ouch !"  exclaims  Si,  as  he  feels  a  smart  rap  on  his  head, 
that  staggers  him  for  a  moment,  and  a  twinge  of  pain. 
"Did  ye  bump  me  with  yer  gun,  Shorty  ?" 

'^No,  I  didn't  touch  ye.  Si." 

''Then  I  reck'n  'twas  a  bullet.  Jest  look  at  my  knob, 
'n'  see  'f  I'm  hurt  any !" 

They  drop  upon  their  knees  and  Si  whisks  off  his  hat. 
There  are  the  holes  where  a  bullet  has  passed  through  it. 
Blood  begins  to  trickle  down  over  his  face. 

''Plowed  a  neat  little  furrow  on  yer  scalp,  Si,  but  'tain't 
deep.    B'jQ  want  ter  go  back  ?" 

"Not's  long's  I  kin  stan'up  and  shoot, "sa^^s  Si.  "Guess 
'f  I  was  killed  I'd  ha'  found  it  out  'fore  this.  Take  my 
han'k'chief  'n'  tie  'er  up.  That's  'bout  's  cluss  's  I  keer  to 
have  'em  come.  But  Johnny  Reb  '11  h^ve  to  do  better  'n' 
that  'f  he  wants  ter  make  me  quit.  I  tell  ye,  I've  come  to 
stay.  Shorty." 

"Bully  fer  you,  Si!  I'm  proud  o' yer  pluck!"  says 
Shorty,  as  with  gentle  fingers  he  wipes  the  blood  from  Si's 
face,  and  ties  the  crimsoned  handkerchief  around  his  head. 

"Now  I'm  all  right!"  says  Si,  as  he  springs  to  his  feet 
and  rams  in  another  cartridge.  "Shouldn't  wonder  'fit 
'd  do  me  good  ter  let  out  a  little  blood.  I'd  like  ter  git 
even  with  that  chap!"  And  he  sights  his  gun  in  the  di- 
rection from  which  he  thought  the  hostile  bullet  had 
come.     "I  hope  that'll  fetch  him !" 

Spat !  A  ball  strikes  the  stock  of  his  musket,  and  knocks: 
it  into  splinters. 

"There  goes  my  gun,  Shorty.  Seems  's  if  them  fellers 
was  all  tryin'  ter  hit  me.  But  this  only  strikes  Uncle  Sam 
n  the  pocket,  'n'  I  guess  he  kin  stan'  it.  There's  poor 
Andy  Green  't  was  killed  a  few  minnits  ago.  He's  lyin* 
thar  with  his  gun  'n  his  hand.  I'll  git  that  'n'  try  'n' 
make  it  do  good  sarvis  fer  him  'n'  me,  too !" 

Si  flings  away  his  disabled  piece.  Bending  over  he 
tenderly  disengages  the  musket  from  the  clutch  of  the  yet 


THE  RANKS  THIN  RAPIDLY.  411 

warm  but  stiffening  fingers  of  his  dead  comrade.  Fearing 
that  his  ammunition  may  be  exhausted  he  takes  from  the 
body  the  cartridges  that  remain  and  puts  them  in  his 
pocket.  A  tear  gathers  in  his  eye,  but  he  brushes  it  away, 
and  again  he  is  by  the  side  of  Shorty,  loading  and  firing 
with  redoubled  energy,  as  if  to  make  up  for  the  time  he 
has  lost. 

A  bullet  skims  very  close  to  Shorty's  body,  cutting  the 
strap  to  his  haversack,  and  the  latter  falls  to  the  ground. 

''They've  cut  off  my  supplies.  Si,"  he  exclaims,  as  a 
faint  smile  creeps  over  his  grim  face.  ''But  I  can't  stop 
ter  fix  that  now!" 

"Never  mind !"  says  Si.  "Jest  keep  blazin'  away  at  'em, 
'n'  we'll  manage  'bout  the  grub.  I'll  go  halvers  with  ye 
on  what  I've  got." 

Scarcely  twenty  minutes  have  passed  since  we  found  Si 
and  Shorty  so  bravely  fighting  the  foe.  Events  crowd 
rapidly  upon  each  other  at  such  times. 

We  glance  along  the  line  of  the  200th  Indiana.  Nearly 
half  its  men  and  officers  have  been  killed  or  wounded.  The 
body  of  the  lieutenant-colonel  lies  stiff  and  stark.  The 
adjutant  has  been  borne  to  the  rear  with  a  bullet 
through  his  breast.  The  major  is  still  at  his  post,  with 
a  bleeding  arm  carried  in  a  sling.  The  brave  colonel  is  yet 
untouched.  Proud  of  his  gallant  men,  he  passes  fearlessly 
through  the  ranks,  with  words  of  commendation  and 
cheer.  Now  he  stops  for  a  moment  to  stanch  a  wound, 
and  again  to  place  his  flask  to  the  lips  of  a  fainting  sufferer. 

Captains  and  lieutenants  have  fallen  on  every  hand. 
Some  of  the  companies  have  lost  all  their  officers  and  are 
commanded  by  sergeants.  But  the  men  who  have  been 
spared  fight  bravely  on,  with  no  thought  of  turning  their 
backs  to  the  enemy. 

Once — twice— thrice  the  colors  of  the  200th  have  gone 
down,  as  those  who  bore  them  have  successively  fallen. 
They  disappear  but  for  an  instant.     Other  ready   and 


412  THE  FLAG  STILL  FLOATS. 

willing  hands  grasp  the  staff,  and  bear  aloft  the  sol- 
dier's beacon.  The  flag,  torn  and  rent,  but  glorified  and 
beautiful,  floats  proudly  in  its  place.  The  sight  of  its 
stripes  and  stars,  waving  amidst  the  smoke  and  blaze  of 
battle,  is  a  sublime  inspiration.  It  is  the  very  embodiment 
of  the  cause  for  which  they  are  fighting  and  bleeding  and 
dying— the  emblem  of  liberty  and  the  unity  of  a  great 
Nation.  The  soldiers  cheer  as  they  look  upon  it.  Brave 
men  wounded  unto  death,  turn  their  eyes  to  its  graceful 
folds  and  faintly  shout,  with  the  last  gasp  of  swiftly -ebbing 
life.  Ah !  you  who  have  never  stood  beside  your  country's 
flag  amidst  such  scenes  as  this  can  know  little  of  the  emo- 
tions that  thrilled  the  throbbing  heart  of  the  patriot 
volunteer !  He  never  looks  upon  it  today  that  it  does  not 
recall  the  valor  and  the  heroic  suffering  of  those  who  fol- 
lowed it  during  those  fearful  years  of  fire  and  blood  and 
death ! 

The  steady  and  well-directed  fire  of  the  200th  and  the 
other  regiments  of  the  brigade  to  which  it  belonged  has 
held  the  enemy  in  check.  There  are  signs  of  weakness  in 
the  opposing  line  and  a  charge  is  ordered. 

" Battalion— Cease  firing!"  shouts  the  colonel  of  the 
200th,  dashing  to  the  front.     "  Fix— Bayonets !" 

*'D'ye  hear  that,  Shorty?"  says  Corporal  Klegg,  as  he 
quickly  responds  to  the  command.  ''Now  we're  goin'  ter 
go  for  'em.    That  jest  suits  me!" 

There  is  a  click  and  a  clatter  for  an  instant,  and  the  line 
bristles  with  points  of  steel. 

*'  Close  up  on  the  center !" 

The  line  is  but  half  as  long  as  when  it  formed  in  the 
morning. 

* '  Charge — Bayonet !    Forward — Double-quick— March ! ' ' 

The  men  spring  at  the  word,  and  sweep  forward  with 
loud  shouts.  A  minute  or  two  and  they  are  looking  into 
the  very  muzzles  of  the  enemy's  guns.  During  that  brief 
period  many  more  have  fallen,  but  the  rest  rush  on  like  a 


CHAEGE  BAYONET! 


T" 


413 


resistless  tide.  The  hostile  line  trembles,  quivers,  and  then, 
without  waiting  to  meet  the  shock,  breaks  in  confusion. 
The  men  of  the  200th  dash  after  them  with  wild  yells, 
picking  their  way  among  the  dead  and  wounded  that  in- 
cumber the  field. 

Si  and  Shorty  engage  in  the  charge  with  the  utmost  en- 
thusiasm. None  are  farther  to  the  front  than  the^^  One 
of  the  enemy's  color-bearers  stands  bravely  at  his  post,, 
but  on  either  hand  the  line  is  fast  melting  away.  Swiftly 
leaping  over  the  ground  Si  and  Shorty  present  their  bayo- 


THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  200TH  INDIANA. 

nets  and  demand  surrender.  There  is  no  alternative,  and 
the  flag  and  its  bearer  are  theirs. 

At  length  the  eager  men  are  recalled  from  the  pursuit. 
Back  they  come  with  glad  shouts  of  exultation,  bringing 
many  prisoners  as  trophies  of  their  valor.  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  fate  of  battle  elsewhere  along  those  miles  of 
fighting,  the  200th  Indiana  has  won  its  victory. 

A  member  of  Company  0,  a  friend  of  Si,  is  one  of  the  last 
to  fall,  in  the  moment  of  triumph.  As  the  regiment  is 
ordered  to  withdrav/  Si  bends  over  his  w^ounded  comrade. 


414 


VICTORY  FOR  THE  200TH. 


**How  d'ye  feel,  Bob?"  he  asks,  with  kindly  sympathj, 
*  ^  Ar '  ye  hurt  much  ?  " 

*'Purty  bad,  I'm  'fraid,"  is  the  answer.     "1  guess  that 

bullet  busted  my  knee.    But  we  licked  'em,  didn't  we,  Si?" 

''Course  we  did !    I  knew  we  was  goin'  to  all  the  time. 

You're  a  brave  boy.  Bob,  n'  I  ain't  goin'  ter  leave  ye  lyin' 

here.    Shorty,  jest  take  my  gun,  'n'  you  march  our  pris'- 

ner.    Let  him  carry  his  flag,  'n'  I'll  take  Bob  on  my  back. 

Here,  Bob,  take  a  swig  out  o'  my  canteen.' 

A  draught  of  water  refreshes  the  sufferer. 

*'Hyar,lemme  give  ye  a  lift,"  says  the  rebel  color-bearer. 

''I  'low  we're  all  human 
bein's  if  we  be  fightin' 
an'  killin'  each  other. 
He's  wounded  an'  I'm  a 
pris'ner.  We  ain't  none 
of  us  cowards  an'  we 
kin  be  friends  now." 

Short}^  and  the  cap- 
tive gently  lift  Bob  and 
place  him  on  Si's  back. 
''Grip  yer arms  'round 
my  neck  'n'  hang  on!" 
sa3^s  Si;  and  away  he 
goes  bearing  him  to  the 
rear. 

The  200th  is  reHeved  by  a  regiment  which,  thrown  into 
confusion  by  the  attack  in  the  early  morning,  has  been 
rallied  and  reformed,  and  is  again  ready  for  battle.  The 
200th  is  ordered  to  the  rear  for  rest  and  refreshment,  and 
to  replenivsh  its  cartridge-boxes,  that  it  may  be  ready  if 
again  called  into  action.  Its  wounded  are  tenderly  cared 
for,  but  there  is  no  time  now  to  bury  the  dead.  For  the 
present  they  must  lie  where  they  fell. 

The  day  wears  away.  All  along  the  line  the  fierce  as- 
saults of  the  enemy  have  been  successfully  resisted.    The 


A  COMRADE  IN  DISTRESS. 


A  FEARFUL  NIGHT.  415 

threatened  disaster  of  the  morning  has  been  averted. 
More  than  a  third  of  the  men  in  both  armies  have  been 
killed  or  wounded.  Some  companies  and  regiments  have 
been  for  the  time  almost  blotted  out  of  existence. 

The  deepening  shadows  of  that  awful  night  settle  down 
upon  the  bloody  field— upon  soldiers  weary  and  worn, 
blackened  by  smoke  and  grime,  but  yet  undismayed— upon 
great  hospital  camps  filled  with  thousands  of  torn  and 
mangled  men,  whose  sufferings  tender  hearts  and  willing 
hands  are  striving  to  allay— upon  other  thousands  of 
\vounded  who  yet  lie  among  their  dead  comrades,  chilled 
by  the  cruel  December  frost.    It  is  New  Year's  eve. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Scenes  after  the  Battle  —  Calling  the  Roll  and  Burying  the 

Dead. 

WHO  that  carried  gun  or  sword  through  that  fear- 
ful day  can  ever  forget  the  horrors  of  the  long 
night  which  followed?  It  was  keenly,  bitterly  cold.  The 
ground  and  everything  upon  it  was  whitened  by  a  frost 
so  heavy  that  it  seemed  almost  as  if  snow  had  fallen. 

Those  who  had  met  instant  death  upon  that  bloody  field 
were  more  fortunate  than  some  of  their  comrades  who, 
desperately  wounded,  were  left  far  out  between  the  hostile 
lines,  beyond  the  reach  of  succor.  The  biting  frost  supple- 
mented the  dreadful  havoc  of  bullet  and  shell.  Lyingthere 
under  the  stars,  mangled,  bleeding  and  helpless,  the  flicker- 
ing spark  of  many  a  life  went  out  in  agony. 

After  the  fighting  of  the  day  had  ceased  the  commander 
of  each  army  gathered  his  shattered  battalions  and  estab- 


416  SI  GROWS  SENTIMENTAL. 

lished  his  lines  for  the  night,  in  readiness  to  meet  any 
emergency.  The  soldiers  of  the  200t'h  Indiana — they  had 
nobl}^  earned  the  right  to  be  called  soldiers  now — were 
ordered  to  lie  upon  their  arms.  No  fires  were  permitted. 
Hardtack  and  raw  bacon,  without  coffee,  comprised  their 
evening  refreshment. 

Like  all  the  rest.  Si  Klegg  and  Shorty  were  greatly 
fatiofued  after  the  exertion  and  intense  excitement  of  the 
day.  In  the  heat  of  battle  they  had  no  thought  of  weari- 
ness, but  after  the  fight  was  done,  when  mind  and  heart 
and  body  w^ere  relieved  from  the  strain,  there  followed  a 
feeling  of  extreme  exhaustion.  They  lay  down  upon  the 
hard,  cold  earth,  between  their  blankets,  and  tried  to  sleep, 
but  could  not.  The  appalling  events  of  the  day  were  be- 
fore their  e^^es  in  all  their  awful  vividness.  The  hours  since 
morning  had  flown  as  if  they  were  but  minutes.  Amidst 
such  scenes  the  senses  take  no  note  of  time.  And  yet,  look- 
ing back  to  the  morning,  it  seemed  an  age.  Occurrences 
of  the  previous  day  were  but  dimU^  remembered,  as  if  they 
belonged  to  the  half-forgotten  past. 

"Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  they  lay  shivering  with  fch&  cold, 
'Svonder  TI  killed  anybody'  today!  I  tried  ter — ye  know- 
that — when  I  was  in  the  fight,  but  now  it 's  all  over  I  don't 
like  ter  think  'bout  it." 

"Them  raskils  tried  hard  'nough  ter  kill  you  'n'  me,  Si," 
said  Shorty,  " 'n' the\^  come  purty  nigh  doin' it,  too.  How's 
yer  head?" 

"It's  a  little  bit  sore,  but  that  don't  amount  ter  nothin' 
— only  a  scratch.  It  '11  be  all  right  'n  a  day  er  two.  But  I 
tell  ye,  "continued  Si,  taking  up  the  thread  of  his  thoughts, 
"fightin'  's  mighty  tough  business.  I  ain't  much  of  a 
ph'los'pher,  but  I  don't  b'lieve  all  this  murderin'  'n' 
manglin'  's  right.  Ef  I  sh'd  kill  a  man  up  in  Injianny  I'd  git 
hung  fer  it,  'n'  it  'd  sarve  me  right.  When  ye  git  down  ter 
hard-pan  I  can't   quite  see  why  'tain't  jest   's  cruel  *n* 


MORE  OF  shorty's  PHILOSOPHY.  417 

wicked  ter  put  a  bullet  through  a  man's  head  or  shoot  off 
his  leg  in  Tennessee  's  'tis  'n  Injianny." 

''Ye  're  a  good,  brave  boy,"  said  Shorty,  ' "n' yer gizzard 
is  chuck  full  o'  sand,  but  ye  want  ter  git  over  them  squeam- 
ish notions.  Them  fellers  begun  this  row,  'n'  we've  got 
ter  fight  'em  till  they  quit.  Yer  idees  's  right  'nuff,  but 
ye  can't  make  'em  fit  war  times.  Ye '11  have  ter  hold  'em 
a  while;  they'll  keep." 

*'I  s'pose  that's  so,  Shorty.  Course  I  ain't  goin'  ter 
Stan'  with  my  hands  'n  my  pockets  'n'  let  a  reb  shoot  me 
down  'n  my  tracks  'f  I  kin  help  it.  The  Guvyment's  got 
ter  be  defended,  but  I  tell  ye  it's  mighty  rough  on  them  as 
has  ter  do  the  defendin'.  I  understand  how  that  is,  but  I 
can't  git  it  out  o'  my  head  that  there's  suthin  out  o' j'int 
somewhere  when  people  't  pertendsto  be  civilized,  'n'  some 
on  'em  thinks  they's  Christians,  gits  up  sich  a  shootin' 
match  's  we  had  today,  when  everybody  's  blowin'  men's 
brains  out  'n'punchin'  bay 'nets  inter  their  bodies.  I  know 
when  ye  git  a  war  on  yer  hands  ye've  got  ter  fight  it  out, 
'n'  somebody  '11  have  ter  git  hurt,  but  seems  ter  me  there 
ortn't  ter  be  any  war,  'cept  'mong  dogs,  'n'  tigers,  'n' 
heathens.  My  notion  is  that  there  wouldn't  be  none, 
nuther,  'f  the  men  't  got  it  up  was  the  ones  that  had  ter 
do  all  the  marchin'  'n'  fightin'.  If  they  did  screw  up  their 
courage  to  tryit,  one  day  like  this  'd  cure  'em,I'mthinkin'." 
''Ib'lieve  ye,  Si,"  replied  Shorty,  ''but  's  I  said,  ye've 
got  ter  git  over  bein'  so  chicken-hearted.  I  ain't  afeard  ye 
won't  stan'  up  ter  the  rack,  fodder  or  no  fodder,  after  seein' 
how  ye  behaved  yerself  today,  but  ye'll  feel  better  jest  ter 
go  in  on  yer  nerve  'n'  do  'em  all  the  damage  ye  kin.  That's 
what  ye're  here  fer.  If  ye'd  been  bumped  around  in  the 
world  like  me  ye'd  've  had  the  senterment  all  knocked  out 
o'  ye  same 's  I  have.  Fact  is,  1  couldn't  hardly  tell  ye  what 
I  'listed  fer,  'cause  I  don't  know  myself.  I  s'pose  almost 
every  man's  got  some  o'  what  they  calls  patri'tism,  but 
I'm  more  'n  half  thinkin'  't  when  they  distributed  it  'round 


418  PLUCK  AND   PATRIOTISM. 

I  didn't  git  quite  my  sheer  on  it ;  an'  it  hain't  growed  any 
sence  I've  bin  soljerin',  nuther.  I  reck'n  ye've  got  more  on 
it,  Si,  'n  I  have.  I  can't  see  's  it  makes  any  di£f 'runce  ter 
me,  indivijly,  whether  this  country  's  cut  in  two  or  not. 
But  I'm  in  fer  't  'n'  I'm  goin'  ter  keep  peggin'  away  all  the 
same  's  if  I  was  's  full  o'  patri'tism  's  them  red-hot  speech- 
ifiers  up  North  that  goes  around  sloppin'  over — but  they're 
mighty  keerful  not  to  jine  the  army  theirselves.  I'm  goin' 
ter  try  'n'  keep  up  my  eend  o'  the  barg'in,  -n'  'arn  my  thir- 
teen dollars  a  month.  There's  jest  one  more  thing  I  "want 
ter  say,  Si.  Ef  either  on  us  has  got  ter  git  killed,  I  hope 
'twon't  be  you,  'cause  ^^ou've  got  lots  o'  friends  't  'd  feel 
bad.  I  ain't  o'  very  much  'count,  noway,  'n'  I  don't 
b'lieve  anybody's  eyes  'd  leak  over  me!" 

It  was  a  singular  companionship — that  of  Si  and  Shorty 
— their  dispositions  and  characteristics  v^ere  so  different, 
but  they  had  been  drawn  together  and  held  in  an  ever- 
tightening  clasp  that  only  a  fatal  bullet  could  sever. 

Shorty  was  a  type  of  the  volunteer  soldier  that  was 
found  in  every  company.  All  his  life  he  had  been  buffeted 
about  on  a  tempestuous  sea.  A  "pilgrim and  a  stranger," 
he  had  few  ties  of  kinship.  His  intercourse  with  the  world 
had  not  tended  to  the  growth  and  development  of  the  finer 
sensibilities  of  human  nature.  His  heart  had  not  known 
that  glowirig  heat  of  patriotic  ardor  that  was  the  impel- 
ling force  of  so  many  who  shouldered  musket  or  buck- 
led sword.  He  had  enlisted,  influenced,  perhaps,  in  some 
degree  by  an  impalpable  sense  of  duty,  but,  as  he  told 
Si,  hardly  knowing  why  he  did  so.  He  cheered  the  flag 
wrhen  the  others  did,  very  much  as  though  that  were  part  of 
his  du.ty  as  a  soldier.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  all  this, 
there  was  no  man  in  the  ranks  of  the  200th  Indiana  who 
would  prove  more  patient  and  faithful  and  brave  than 
Shorty. 

Si's  state  of  mind  at  this  time  was  a  natural  condition. 
It  did  not  indicate  any  weakening  of  his  patriotic  resolu-* 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS.  419 

tion  to  do  his  duty  well  and  faithfully.  It  was  the  inevi- 
table reaction  after  the  intense  strain  of  the  day  upon  his 
mental  and  physical  resources.  It  seemed  to  him,  as  it  did 
to  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  others,  that 
war,  in  the  abstract,  was  monstrously  cruel  and  barbar- 
ous, and  to  reconcile  it  with  the  teachings  of  his  boyhood 
was  no  easy  task.  Many  others  found  the  same  trouble 
with  this  question  that  he  did. 

After  lying  for  an  hour  Si  and  Shorty  arose  and  moved 
about  to  warm,  by  exercise,  their  benumbed  and  stiffened 
limbs.  They  walked  out  a  short  distance  to  the  front, 
where  the  watchful  pickets  were  keeping  guard.  Si's  at- 
tention was  arrested  by  a  sound  that  came  from  beyond 
the  line. 

''  Hark!"  he  exclaimed,  ''d'ye  hear  that.  Shorty?" 

They  listened,  and  there  came  to  their  ears  a  low  moan 
of  pain.    Si's  tender  sympathies  were  instantly  aroused. 

''Shorty,"  said  he,  ''let's  see  if  we  can't  help  that  poor  suf- 
ferin'  man.  He'll  freeze  to  death  'fore  momin'.  You  wait 
here  t'U  I  go  'n'  ask  the  cap'n,  'n'  we'll  see  'f  we  can't  bring 
him  in.  We  don't  know  how  soon  we'll  be  wantin'  some- 
body ter  do  it  fer  us." 

"I'm  with  ye,  Si,"  said  Shorty.  "Like  as  not  them  ras- 
kils  over  thar  '11  fire  at  us.  If  we  sh'd  be  killed,  mebbe,  if 
there  is  anybody  up  above  that  keeps  the  account,  he  '11 
give  us  a  credit  mark  for  tryin'  ter  help  a  feller-bein'  't  's  in 
misery;  'n'  perhaps  it  '11  offset  a  little  o'  what  he's  got 
charged  agin  us  on  t'other  side.  Go  ahead,  Si,  'n'  bring 
yer  blanket  with  ye.    I'll  stay  here  t'U  ye  come." 

Si  hurried  back  to  where  the  remnant  of  Company  Q  was 
lying,  and  made  known  his  ^sh  to  the  captain.  The  lat- 
ter accompanied  him  to  the  colonel,  who,  after  commend- 
ing in  the  highest  terms  his  gallant  conduct  in  the  battle, 
consented  that  he  might  carry  out  his  desire,  at  the  same 
time  warning  him  of  the  danger  to  which  he  would  be 
exposed. 


420 


A  MISSION  OF  MERCY. 


Seizing  his  blanket  Si  returned  to  his  comrade.  Caution^ 
ing  the  pickets,  so  that  they  might  not  be  fired  upon  by 
their  friends,  the  two  good  Samaritans  went  upon  their 
errand  of  mercy.  Carefully  and  stealthily  they  picked 
their  way— for  the  enemy's  videttes  were  but  a  short  dis- 
tance off— guided  by  the  groans  that  grew  more  distinct 
as  they  approached. 
Dropping  to  their  knees  they  crept  over  the  frost-covered 

ground,  among  the 
stiff  and  whitening 
forms  of  the  slain. 
Over  that  field  which 
a  few  hours  before 
v^as  the  scene  of  the 
battle's  roar  and 
carnage,  now  hung 
the  awful  silence  of 
night  and  death. 

The  object  of  their 

search  lay  in  an  open 

spot,  beyond  which, 

through     the     dim 

starlight,      Si     and 

Shorty  could  see  the 

picket-posts,  behind 

which    they     knew 

the  hostile  sentinels 

were  watching  with 

sleepless  eyes.    They 

"FOR  GOD'S  SAKE,  HELP ! "  could  scarccly  hope 

to   accomplish   their  purpose  without  being  discovered. 

But  they  shrank  not  from  danger.     Slowly  they  made 

their  way  toward  the  sufferer. 

**0h,  help,  help!     For    God's    sake   won't    somebody 
come ! " 

"Hello,  pard !"  said  Si,  in  a  suppressed  tone.     ''Keep  up 


BORNE  SAFELY  BACK.  421 

yer  nerve!  We're  comin'  arter  ye,  and  '11  be  thar  'n  a 
minnit!'* 

Flat  upon  their  faces  they  worked  themselves  along,  with 
hand  and  foot,  and  at  length  reached  the  suflferer.  There 
he  lay  upon  the  cold  earth,  a  brave  boy  no  older  than  Si, 
chilled  by  the  frost,  weak  and  fainting  from  hunger  and 
loss  of  blood,  in  an  agony  of  pain. 

**Good  Lord  in  Heaven  bless  'em,  both  of  *em!"  he 
moaned,  as  they  crept  up  beside  him. 

The  prayer  of  the  penitent  thief  upon  the  cross  was  not 
more  fervent  and  sincere. 

''Never  mind  that,  pard,"  said  Si;  *'all  we  want  now  is 
ter  git  ye  out  o' this." 

With  tender  touch  they  raised  him  gently  from  the 
ground  and  laid  him  upon  the  blanket.  There ^^as  a  blaze 
from  one  of  the  enemy's  pickets,  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle 
rang  out  in  the  clear  night  air,  and  a  bullet  w^hizzed  past 
them.    They  dropped  upon  their  faces  for  a  moment. 

''Seems  to  me,"  whispered  Si,  "that  Satan  hisself 
wouldn't  fire  on  us  'f  he  knowed  what  we  was  doin'." 

After  a  brief  pause  Si  and  Shorty  started  upon  their  re- 
turn. For  the  safety  of  their  charge,  as  well  as  their  own, 
they  could  not  arise  to  their  feet  and  bear  off  their  burden, 
as  they  would  be  certain  to  draw  the  enemy's  fire.  Upon 
hands  and  knees  they  moved  him  along,  a  foot  or  two  at  a 
time.  It  was  a  slow  and  laborious  task,  but  they  toiled 
on  patiently  and  perse veringly.  Two  or  three  times  they 
were  fired  upon,  but  the  balls  passed  harmlessly  by  them. 
Reaching  cover,  they  were  able  to  walk  erect,  a  ad  were 
soon  within  the  lines.  They  bore  the  v^ounded  soldier  to 
the  nearest  hospital.  There  he  received  the  care  that  might 
save  a  life  which,  but  for  the  rescue,  would  have  expired 
before  the  day  dawned. 

Si  and  Shorty  took  the  cold  hands  of  the  sufferer  and 
bade  him  good-by. 


422  HEARTFELT   GRATITUDE. 

**  I  don't  s'pose  I'll  ever  see  ye  ag'in,"said  Si;  ''but  I  hope 
ye '11  pull  through  all  right,  'n'  I  b'lieve  ye  will.  What  riji- 
ment  d'ye  b'long  to?" 

''Hunderd  'n'  seventy-fifth  Michigan,"  was  the  faint 
reply. 

**  Then  we're  neighbors  when  we're  to  home.  I  live  in  In- 
jianny,  'n'  I'm  in  the  bully  200th.  I  s'pose  you've  heern 
tell  'bout  her;  she's  the  boss  rijiment." 

The  wounded  boy  gazed  into  the  faces  of  Si  and  Shorty 
with  a  look  of  unutterable  gratitude.  It  was  clearly  his 
opinion  that  if  all  the  members  of  the  200th  were  like  them, 
the  regiment  might  well  deserve  the  designation  Si  had 
given  it. 

**If  ye  git  well  'n'  come  back,"  continued  Si,  *'ye  must 
be  sure  'n'  hunt  up  me  'n'  Shorty,  'cause  we'll  be  glad  ter  see 
ye.  My  name  's  Klegg  and  my  pard's — well  I  most  fergot 
what  his  other  name  is ;  we  jest  calls  him '  Shorty.'  I  hope 
ye'll  find  us  'live  'n'  kickin'  yet." 

*'Ye've  been  mighty  good  to  me!"  said  the  young  sol- 
dier. ''  Ye've  saved  my  life,  and  I'll  never  forget  ye  if  I  live 
a  thousan'  years.    God  bless  ye ! " 

Si  and  Shorty  went  back  to  their  post  with  hearts 
aglow  with  pleasure  at  the  thought  of  what  they  had 
done. 

The  night  wore  slowly  away.  There  were  frequent 
alarms  on  the  picket-line  that  kept  the  soldiers  in  constant 
trepidation.  Regiments  and  brigades  were  being  moved 
from  one  point  to  another,  in  preparation  for  the  combat 
which  it  was  expected  would  be  renewed  with  the  break 
of  day.  The  measured  footsteps  of  the  marching  battalions 
creaked  upon  the  frosty  ground.  Few  eyes  were  closed  in 
sleep,  and  those  only  in  short,  fitful  naps  that  gave  little 
rest  to  weary  bodies. 

For  three  days  the  two  armies  lay  like  wounded  lions, 
glaring  and  growling  each  at  the  other,  with  occasional 


A  FERVENT  DOXOLOGY.  423 

fighting  at  one  point  or  another  on  the  long  and  tortuous 
hne.    Then,  ''between  two  days,"  the  rebel  army 

"  Folded  its  tents  like  the  Arabs 
And  as  silently  stole  away." 

With  the  dawn  of  Sunday  morning  came  cessation  of 
the  toil  and  turbulence  of  the  week.  No  shot  sounded 
on  the  picket-line;  no  cannon  thundered  its  morning 
alarm.  An  advance  of  skirmishers  revealed  only  the  de- 
serted works  and  camps  of  the  enemy.  Victory,  so  long 
hanging  in  the  balance,  had  at  last  been  decided  for  the 
Union  arms. 

As  if  borne  upon  the  wind  the  glad  tidings  spread 
through  the  army.  The  air  was  rent  with  wdld  huzzas. 
Whole  regiments  united,  with  a  fervor  and  zest  that  words 
cannot  describe,  in  singing  to  the  tune  of  "Old  Hundred:" 

"  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 

It  was  not  prompted  by  any  sudden  ebullition  of  piety, 
but  to  those  rejoicing  hearts  it  seemed  appropriate  to  the 
day  and  the  occasion,  and  thousands  of  voices  swelled  in 
grand  harmony  till  the  woods  rang  with  the  inspiring 
sound. 

For  the  first  time  in  a  week  the  soldiers,  wearied  and 
worn  with  marching  and  fighting  and  nightly  watching, 
stacked  arms,  threw^  off  their  accouterments,  built  fires, 
and  disposed  themselves  for  needed  rest  and  refreshment, 
without  fear  that  crack  of  musket  or  scream  of  shell  would 
summon  them  to  battle. 

After  breakfast  Company  Q,  of  the  200th  Indiana,  was 
drawn  up  in  line  for  roll-call,  for  the  first  time  since  the 
havoc  of  the  fight.  One  of  the  lieutenants  had  been  killed 
and  the  other  wounded.  Only  the  captain  remained  of 
the  ofiicers.  The  company  looked  a  mere  squad  when 
contrasted  with  the  full  ranks  with  which  it  went  so 
bravely  into  battle.  There  were  sad  faces  and  aching 
hearts  as  the  men  thought  of  loved  comrades  who  had 


424>  THE  SAD  ROLL-CALL. 

marched  by  their  side,  whose  familiar  touch  they  would 
feel  no  more. 

''Call  all  the  names, "  said  the  captain  to  the  orderly, 
"and  let  the  men  answer  for  their  comrades  who  are  not 
hereto  speak  for  themselves." 

**Sargeant  Gibson. " 

**  Killed ;  shot  through  the  head ! " 

''Sargeant  Wagner." 

"Here!" 

"Sargeant  Thompson." 

"Wounded  in  the  thigh  while  holding  the  colors. " 

"Corporal  Brown. " 

"Mortally  wounded;  died  the  morning  after  the  fight!" 

"  Corporal  Klegg. " 

"Here!" 

Si's  response  was  clear  and  full,  as  if  he  was  proud  to  be 
"here."  There  was  a  perceptible  tremor  in  his  voice,  how- 
ever, for  his  heart  was  full  of  tender  memories  of  those 
who  had  gone  down  before  the  storm. 

* '  Private  Anderson. ' ' 

"Here!" 

"Aultman." 

"Dead I  fell  by  my  side  and  never  spoke  a  word !*' 

"Barnes." 

"Right  arm  torn  off  by  a  piece  of  shell ;  in  hospital," 

"Bowler." 

"Here!" 

"Connolly." 

"Killed  in  the  charge  when  we  drove  'em !" 

"Day." 

"Here." 

And  so  it  went  on  through  the  list.  Little  wonder  that 
the  captain  wept,  as  he  stood  with  folded  arms  listening 
to  the  responses,  and  looking  with  feelings  of  mingled  pride 
and  grief  upon  what  remained  of  his  gallant  company ! 
Little  wonder  that  tears  trickled  down  through  the  dust 


BURYING  THE  DEAD.  425 

and  grime,  over  the  faces  of  men  strong  and  brave !  Little 
wonder  that  lips  quivered  and  voices  trembled  with  emo- 
tion, and  the  words,  in  answer  to  the  call  of  the  orderly, 
found  difficult  utterance ! 

After  the  roll  was  finished  the  captain  tried  to  speak  a 
few  words  of  compliment  to  his  men,  but  heart  and  voice 
failed  him.  Vainly  striving  to  control  his  feelings  he 
bade  the  orderly  dismiss  the  company,  and  turned  away 
with  streaming  eyes. 

Later  in  the  day  an  order  was  issued  for  a  detail  from 
each  company  to  go  upon  the  field  where  the  regiment 
fought,  and  discharge  the  last  sad  duty— that  of  gathering 
and  burying  the  dead.  As  yet  the  slain  of  the  army  were 
lying  where  they  fell,  scattered  over  miles  of  field  and  copse 
and  wood. 

The  orderly  of  Company  Q  called  for  volunteers,  and  the 
necessary  number  stepped  promptly  to  the  front.  Si  Klegg 
and  Shorty  among  them.  Picks,  spades  and  stretchers 
were  supplied,  and  the  detachment  from  the  200th,  in 
charge  of  an  officer,  started  upon  its  mournful  mission. 

A  suitable  spot  was  selected  and  a  long  trench  dug,  seven 
feet  wide  and  three  feet  deep.  Then  the  mangled  and  stif- 
fened corpses  were  borne  thither  upon  stretchers.  The}- 
were  wrapped  in  the  blankets  which  they  had  carried  over 
their  shoulders  when  they  went  into  the  fight,  and  which 
still  encircled  their  lifeless  bodies,  reddened  by  the  blood  of 
those  who  wore  them.  The  men  laid  their  dead  comrades 
side  by  side  in  the  trench.  Then  the  earth  was  shoveled  in, 
and  those  familiar  faces  and  forms  were  hidden  from  the 
eyes  of  the  living.  At  the  head  of  each  was  placed  a  bit 
of  wood,  perhaps  a  'fragment  of  a  cracker  box,  with  his 
name,  company  and  regiment  penciled  upon  it  for  future 
identification.  Few  vi^ords  were  spoken  during  these  sad 
rites.    Hearts  were  too  full. 

** Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  they  marched  back  to  the  bivouac, 
that's  the  best  we  could  do  fer  the  poor  boys,  but  it  'd 


426 


IT  MATTERS  LITTLE. 


make  me  feel  bad  ter  think  I  was  goin'  ter  be  buried  that 
way,  hunderds  o'  miles  from  home  'n'  friends,  'n'  'thout 
even  anybody  to  speak  a  prayer.  I  think  a  man 't  willin'ly 
gives  his  life  fer  his  country  as  they  did— an'  ye  know 
that's  jest  all  a  man  kin  do — desarves  suthin  better  'nthat 
kind  o'  plantin',  like  so  many  pertaters  in  a  row." 

*'Ye  keep  gittin'  sentermental.  Si,"  replied  Shorty. 
**  That's  all  well  'nough,  but  it  don't  matter  much  what 
they  do  with  ye  after  a  bullet 's  gone  through  yer  head. 
I'd  's  lief  be  buried  oneplace  's  nuther.  Anyhow,  it's  apart 


"we  carved  not  a  line,  we  raised  not  a  stone." 

o'  war.    Ye  git  killed  'n'  they  dig  a  hole  'n'  tumble  ye  in^ 
'n'  that's  all  't  military  glory  'mounts  to !  " 

That  evening  the  word  was  passed  around  that  a  mail 
-would  leave  the  next  morning,  and  ever^^body  addressed 
himself  to  the  work  of  writing  brief  letters  to  friends  at 
home.  The  necessary  materials  were  scarce,  but  bits  of 
pencils  were  hunted  up  and  used  by  one  after  another  in 
turn.  Messages  were  written  on  leaves  torn  from  diaries 
and  odd  scraps  of  paper  picked  up  here  and  there  Any- 
body who  had  postage  stamps  divided  them  around  among 


SI  WRITES  AGAIN.  427 

his  comrades.     Uncle  Sam  ought  to  have  "franked"  the 
letters,  but  he  didn't. 

By  the  flickering  light  of  a  fire  Si  wrote— on  paper  that 
had  found  its  way  to  the  front  as  a  wrapper  for  cartridges 
— a  short  letter  to  his  mother,  and  another  that  ran  in 
this  way : 

jati  the  4  1860  3 
Deer  Annie  I  spose  youve  saw  In  the  papers  bout  the  awful  fite  wehad. 
Yude  better  blieve  we  lictem  too.  Of  cout:se  taint  fer  me  to  brag  bout 
myself  an  I  aint  going  to  but  ile  jest  say  that  me  an  Shorty  was  thar  all 
the  time  an  we  dident  git  behind  no  trees  nuther.  I  tell  ye  it  washottem 
a  camp  meetin.  Wun  bullet  scraped  the  hare  ofFn  my  hed  an  nuther 
nocked  the  but  of  my  gun  into  slivers  an  nuther  cut  the  strap  of  Shortys 
haversack  thats  the  bag  he  carrys  his  grub  in  but  we  got  out  all  rite.  I 
had  a  idee  3'ude  be  kinder  glad  to  no  i  dident  run  and  hide  in  a  mewl 
wagin  when  the  bullits  began  ter  zip.  I  want  3'er  to  think  as  mutch  of 
me  as  ye  kin  an  I  no  a  gurl  likes  a  feller  wat  tries  ter  be  brave  an  do  his 
dewty  bettern  she  does  wun  wats  a  coward.  If  enny  of  cumpny  Q  as 
was  wownded  gits  hum  on  furlo  I  aint  afeerd  ter  have  ye  ask  em  how  Si 
klegg  stood  the  rackit.  Shorty  an  me  capcherd  a  rebble  flag  an  the  man 
wat  was  carr3dn  it.  It  was  mity  bill\'us  an  i  dident  bleeve  ide  ever  see 
ye  agin.  Maby  i  wunt  cause  i  spose  weve  got  ter  go  threw  sum  more 
fites  but  ittle  make  me  feel  awfle  bad  if  i  dont  fer  ive  thot  a  heap  of  ye 
durin  these  days.  I  hoap  ye  think  bout  me  as  offen  as  i  do  boutyu.  But 
say  Annie  i  doant  Vv^ant  ter  fite  haf  as  bad  asi  did  afore  taint  funny  a  bit. 
But  the  200th  is  a  bulh^  rijiment  an  ime  goin  ter  stick  b\^herj est  the  saims 
ime  goin  ter  stick  by  yu.  Thares  lots  o  things  ide  like  to  rite  but  i  cant 
now  as  i  haint  enny  more  paper  an  i  got  this  offen  a  packidge  of  catridges. 

if  3'u  luv  me  as  i  luv  yu 

kno  uife  can  cut  ower  luv  intu. 

Yourn  frever  Si  Klegg. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

The  200th  Indiana  has  a  Protracted  Turn  of  Fatigue  Duty— Si 

Wrestles  with  Pick  and  Shovel  and  Tries  to  Outflank 

THE  Doctors. 

(  (  TT^  VERY  man  must  be  ready  tomorrow  mornin'  for 
l^^  fatigue  duty!"  said  the  orderly  of  Company  Q, 
one  evening.  "There  ain't  goin'  to  be  any  playin'  oif,  fer 
everybody's  got  to  turn  out!"  What  the  nature  of  the 
duty  was,  or  how  much  "fatigue"  there  would  be  in  it, 
the  orderly  did  not  say,  if,  indeed,  he  knew. 

It  was  always  characteristic  of  soldiers  during  the  first 
few  months  of  their  service  that  they  wanted  to  know 
about  everything  that  was  going  on  or  that  v^^as  expected 
to  happen.  The  proverbial  curiosity  of  woman  dwarfed 
into  insignificance  beside  the  consuming  desire  in  the  breasts 
of  the  raw  soldiers,  to  find  out  what  the  generals  were 
going  to  do  next.  Whenever  an  order  was  given,  a  volley 
of  conundrums  was  fired  at  the  officers — where  were  they 
going  and  what  for?  what  was  to  be  done,  and  why? 
The  answers  were  generally  so  unsatisfactory  that  they 
knew  even  less  about  it,  if  possible,  than  before.  They 
came  gradually  to  realize  that  the  whole  duty  of  a  soldier 
was  contained  in  the  single  word  "obey" — without  asking 
any  questions.  They  w^ould  find  out  soon  enough  what- 
ever was  necessary  for  them  to  know. 

4,29 


SHORTY  HAZARDS  AX  OPINION.  429 

''Wonder  what's  up  now!"  said  Si  Klegg,  as  he  and 
Shorty  walked  back  to  the  tent  after  the  company  was 
dismissed. 

*'l  ain't  sartin,"  replied  Shorty,  "but  I've  an  idee  they're 
goin'  ter  put  us  to  diggin'.  When  I  was  out  with  the  de- 
tail after  wood  yisterdy  I  seen  a  lot  o'  ossifers  surveyin* 
'n'  squintin'  'round  'n'  drivin'  stakes,  'n'  I  hearn  'em  talk 
'bout  fortifyin' ;  so  I  shouldn't  wonder  'f  we  was  'lected 
fer  a  job.  Looks  's  though  spades  'd  be  trumps  fer  a 
while!" 

Si  and  Shorty  talked  the  matter  over  before  going  to 
sleep  and  made  up  their  minds  to  go  along  the  first  day 
without  any  fuss  and  see  what  kind  of  work  they  had  on 
their  hands.  If  it  proved  to  be  heavy  and  continuous  they 
could,  from  time  to  time,  make  judicious  use  of  their  ability 
to  "play  off." 

"Guess  we  kin  stan'  it  fer  one  day,"  said  Si,  as  he  rolled 
over,  pulling  the  blanket  from  Shorty,  "but  I  tell  ye  what, 
I  ain't  goin'  ter  make  a  nigger  o'  myself 's  long's  my  name 
's  Si  Klegg.  Talkin'  bout  niggers,  there's  thousands  on 
'em  lyin'  'round  doin'  nothin' ;  why  don't  the  Guvyment 
make  them  do  the  diggin'  ?  I  ain't  no  statesman,  but  it 
jQoks  ter  me  's  though  'f  anybody  's  goin'  ter  have  any 
good  out  o'  this  war  the  niggers  '11  git  the  most  on  it.  Ef 
I  had  my  way  I'd  make  'em  help  some  way  er  ruther !" 

"  'Tain't  no  use  ter  phlosofize  or  argefy  'bout  the  war  'n' 
what's  goin'  ter  come  of  it,"  replied  Shorty,  drawing  the 
blanket  over  his  lean  limbs.  "In  the  fust  place  you  'n'  me 
don't  know  nothin'  'bout  'sich  things,  'n'  in  the  next  place 
'twouldn't  make  a  diff  o'  bitterence  'f  we  did.  We  hain't 
got  nothin'  ter  say,  nohow;  so  don't  ye  bother  yer  head 
with  what  b'longs  ter  the  pollytishuns.  That's  what 
they're  fer.  Mighty  few  on  'em  comes  down  here  ter  git 
shot  at.  Now  let's  dry  up  'n'  go  ter  sleep !" 
In  the  morning  breakfast  call  sounded  early.     As  the 


430  "playing  off." 

bugle  notes  floated  over  the  camp  the  boys  joined  in  witk 
the  well-known  words : 
The  order  for  fa-  c±.h^^^=^f^S^^=-^ 


tigue    duty  seemed  ESi  4  *— *izJ^gz:S^ 


-K-*- 


p 

to  have  an  Unfavor-        Hard  tack  and  sow^el-lee!  Hard  tack  and  sow-bel- 


able  effect  upon  the  f-^-f-h — ^— ^ — ^ 
health  of  the  com-  t=t=t ' 


-#-v--N- 


N— Pv 


— 0- 


^ ^^ ^r--' : r ^■ 


pany.     At    least,   in      -leelDon't  ye  hear  the  bugle  toot,  the  drums  go  rub^ 

no  other  way  could 
be     explained     the 


-=-.-N- 


unusually      large      -^^'' Come  ye  hungry   sons    of  guns^fall 

delegation  that  re-  F55===EaE£S3^5^^5^f^H 


sponded 

1^       ji    •      i  j-^        in  an' git  yer  grub!  0  hard  tack  and  sow-bel-leel 


THE  CALL  TO  BREAKFAST. 


orderly  had  cau- 
tioned them  about  ''playing  off,"  but  these  men  were 
so  fast  becoming  veterans  that  they  had  already  acquired 
a  chronic  dislike  for  fatigue  duty,  especially  if  it  promised 
to  be  somewhat  protracted.  In  most  cases  this  feeling 
appeared  to  be  constitutional,  and  the  longer  the  men 
were  in  the  service  the  more  it  grew  on  them. 

The  veteran  soldier,  no  matter  how  hard  the  march, 
would  go  swinging  along,  with  song  and  jest,  and  with 
never  a  word  of  complaint ;  but  he  drew  the  line  at  fatigue 
duty.  That  was  where  he  ''kicked."  When  an  unsol- 
dierly  job  of  this  kind  was  set  before  him  he  at  once  be- 
came the  very  incarnation  of  laziness.  His  aversion  to 
the  pick  and  shovel  was  only  overcome  w^hen,  amidst  the 
zipping  bullets  of  the  enemy,  he  was  hunting  around  for 
something  with  which  to  dig  a  hole  to  get  into.  At  no 
other  time  could  he  even  look  upon  these  menial  imple- 
ments without  a  desire  to  organize  an  insurrection. 

A  good  many  of  the  boys  didn't  feel  very  well  that  morn- 
ing, and  helped  to  swell  the  crowd  that  attended  the 
matinee  at  the  doctor's  tent.  In  most  of  the  cases,  how- 
ever, the  symptoms  were   not   suflSciently  alarminq:   to 


SHORTY  GUESSED  RIGHT.  431 

justify  the  dispenser  of  medicines  in  marking  them  off 
duty. 

The  daily  detail  for  guard  usually  provoked  more  or  less 
grumbling,  but  on  the  morning  in  question  those  whose 
turn  it  was  responded  with  a  cheerfulness  that  under  other 
circumstances  would  have  been  surprising.  Tramping  to 
and  Iro  on  a  beat  two  hours  out  of  six  ^was  preferable  to 
degrading  toil  with  axe  or  shovel.  It  wasn't  as  hard,  and 
besides  it  'was  less  compromising  to  the  dignity  of  a 
soldier. 

Shorty's  surmise  proved  to  be  correct.  When  the  cus- 
tomary routine  of  the  morning  was  over  companies  were 
formed  and  marched  to  the  color  line.  The  regiment  moved 
out  beyond  the  camp  to  its  assigned  place.  Here  the  eyes 
of  the  men  were  greeted  by  the  unwelcome  sight  of  wag- 
ons loaded  with  picks,  shovels  and  axes.  Each  man  was 
ordered  to  arm  himself  with  one  of  these  inoffensive  im- 
plements. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  the  men  to  size  up  the  job  which 
the  engineers  had  laid  out  for  them.  Stakes  and  lines 
running  at  all  sorts  of  angles  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
in  either  direction  marked  the  cordon  of  heavy  earthworks 
that  was  to  be  built  around  the  town. 

"Now  shuck  yerselves  an'  pitch  in!"  said  the  orderly  of 
Company  0. 

Si  cast  a  despairing  look,  first  at  the  tools  and  then  at 
Shorty.  He  appeared  to  be  waiting  to  see  if  some  special 
dispensation  of  Providence  in  his  favor  v^ould  not  yet 
release  him  from  the  irksome  dut3\  There  was  no  alter- 
native. 

"Have  ter  come  to  it,  Si,"  said  Shorty,  who  already  had 
a  pick  in  his  hand.  "Grab  a  shovel  'n'  let's  go  to  work. 
It  does  seem  like  gittin'  down  ter  hard-pan,  but  'tain't  no 
use  growlin'." 

Later  in  the  war  there  were  times  when  Si  wanted  a 
shovel  to  dig  a  rifle-pit  as  badly  as  Richard  III.,  at  the 


432  SI  THREATENS  TO  RESIGN. 

battle  of  Bosworth  Field,  wanted  a  horse.    But  he  didn't 
feel  that  way  now. 

The  men  stripped  off  their  blouses  and  began  to  dig, 
while  the  officers  did  the  heavy  standing  around  and 
** bossing"  the  work.  Corporal  Klegg  was  not  able  to 
divest  himself  of  the  feeling — which  had  shown  itself  on 
several  previous  occasions — that  his  rank,  humble  though 
it  was,  ought  to  excuse  him  from  such  plebeian  toil.  He 
even  ventured  to  hint  as  much,  but  was  informed  with 
some  emphasis  that  the  privileges  of  rank  in  this  respect 
only  reached  far  enough  below  shoulder-straps  to  take  in 
the  orderly  sergeants. 

''I  don't  see  no  good  'n  hein  a  corporil,"he  muttered,  as 
he  seized  a  shovel  and  began  to  throw  out  the  dirt  that 
Shorty  had  loosened  with  his  pick.  *'I've  a  great  notion 
ter  resign  'n'  be  a  privit  'long  with  you,  Shorty.  Corporils 
don't  git  no  more  pay,  ner  no  more  grub,  ner  no  more 
nothin'  'n  an^^body  else  does.  It's  jest  a  fraud !" 

*'Now,  don't  ye  be  gittin'  inter  a  fret!"  replied  Shorty 
''I'm  hopin' ter  see  ye  up  a  right  smart  higher  arter  a 
while,  but  ye  can't  jump  up  all  to  oncet.  It's  jest  the  same 
's  gittin'  up  stairs ;  ye've  got  ter  go  up  one  step  't  a  time. 
I  don't  never  expect  ter  be  nothin'  but  a  privit,  m^^self, 
*n'  I  don't  want  ter;  but  I'd  like  you  to  git  's  high  's  ye  kin. 
Ye'll  be  a  sargint  one  o'  these  days ;  'n'  then  afore  ye  know 
it  ye'll  have  sardine-boxes  clapped  on  yer  shoulders,  'n'  be 
swingin'  yer  toad-stabber  'n'  orderin'  us  fellers  'round. 
I'd  jest  be  happy  ter  see  ye  doin'  that.  Si.  When  ye  gits  a 
little  more  'sperience  ye'll  make  as  good  'n  ossifer  's  any 
on  'em.  Ye've  got  more  sand  'n  half  on  'em,  now ;  'n* 
sand  's  wuth  a  heap  more  'n  book-larnin'  to  a  soljer.  I 
don't  s'pose  ye'll  git  ter  be  a  gin'ral  'nless  the  war  hangs 
on  a  good  while,  but  I'd  like  ter  see  ye  a  leftenant  er  a 
cap'n." 

It  was  rarely  that  any  serious  disturbance  of  Si's  good 
temper  occurred,  and  when  it  did  Shorty  "Vnew  how  to 


THE  RIGHT  TO  GRUMBLE. 


433 


me 

a-sliovelin'    dirt 
a   Paddy  on   the 


bring  him  back  to  his  usual  placid  state  of  mind.  This 
hopeful  view  of  Si's  future  served  as  a  poultice  to  his  in- 
jured feelings,  and  he  was  soon  chattering  away  as  cheerily 
as  ever. 

''Ye  know  I  didn't  mean  nothin',  Shorty,"  he  said.  **I 
reck'n  a  soljer  couldn't  keep  hisself  'n  good  health  'f  he 
didn't  grumble  once  'n  a  while.  I'm  ever  so  much  'bleeged 
to  ye  fer  all  ye  said.  I  hain't  no  more  idee  o'  ever  bein'  a 
real  ossifer  'n  I  have  o'  flyin'.  It  don't  look  much's  though 
I  would,  either 
here 
like 

railroad.  Guess  I 
won't  git  above  bein* 
a  non-commish." 

"Well, ye  don't  want 
ter  fer  git,  Si,  that  if 
this  infernal  rebellion 
's  squelched  it's  them 
as  carries  the  muskits 
that  's  got  ter  do  the 
business.  The  ginVals 
'n'  colonels  'n'  cap'ns 
tells  'em  what  ter  do, 
but  the  men  're  the 
ones  that  has  ter  do  it. 
The  ossifers  most  alius 
gits  the  heft  o*  the 
glory,  but  we  has  ter  do  the  shootin'  'n'  diggin'  jest  the 
same." 

It  may  be  readily  inferred — and  old  soldiers  will  need  no 
averment  of  the  fact— that  Si  and  Shorty  did  not  exert 
themselves  to  an  excessive  degree.  Anybody  would  have 
known  the}^  were  working  by  the  month,  and  for  small 
wages  at  that.  An  hour  or  two  after  the  beginning  of  op- 
erations the  captain  of  Company  Q  was  moved  to  remark 


TALKING  IT  OYER. 


434?  MORE  PROSE  THAN  POETRY. 

that  a  fairly  industrious  hen,  in  quest  of  rations  for  a 
brood  of  chickens,  would  have  scratched  out  a  larger  hole 
in  the  ground  than  appeared  as  the  result  of  the  combined 
efforts  of  the  corporal  and  his  comrade. 

*'If  hens  is  so  smart,"  said  Si  to  Shorty,  ^'p'r'aps  they'd 
better  git  some  'n'  put  'em  to  work.  I  don't  b'leeve  they'd 
/rVe  long 'nough,  though,  ter  do  much  scratchin'.  They'd 
have  ter  roost  mighty  high." 

The  work  done  by  our  heroes  was  a  fair  sample  of  that 
accomplished  by  the  other  members  of  Company  Q.  They 
did  not  take  kindly  to  the  pick  and  shovel.  Such  labor 
wasw^hoUyat  variance  with  all  their  preconceived  notions 
of  a  soldier's  life.  A  large  fraction  of  the  poetry  and  ro- 
mance of  their  martial  dreams  had  already  been  dissipated 
by  the  fighting  and  marching  and  picketing  and  bivouack- 
ing, and  now  to  be  put  to  shoveling  dirt  was  an  indignity 
that  few  had  philosophy  enough  to  endure  with  compos- 
tire.  So  it  was  that  mutterings  were  heard  all  along  the 
line. 

As  the  distance  from  camp  was  considerable,  the  men  had 
brought  along  their  haversacks,  and  at  noon  they  were 
allowed  to  ''knock  off"  for  dinner.  ''Dinner,"  was  the 
name  of  it ;  but  it  presented  few  of  the  attractions  for  a 
hungry  man  that  cluster  around  that  v^^ord.  The  bill  of 
fare  was  not  one  to  tempt  an  epicure.  Eating  in  those 
days  was,  like  a  good  many  other  things,  a  military  neces- 
sity. It  was  in  this  spirit  that  the  men  munched  the  flinty 
crackers,  anointed  with  the  unctuous  drippings  from  sizzling 
swine's  flesh,"and  washed  them  down  with  draughts  of  cof- 
fee well-nigh  strong  enough  to  have  floated  an  egg. 

The  time  allowed  for  refreshments  was  about  as  long  as 
that  usually  vouchsafed  at  a  railroad  eating-house.  The 
^' All  aboard !  "  of  the  conductor  is  not  more  unwelcome  to 
the  ear  of  a  famished  traveler  who  has  but  half  eaten  his 
dinner  than  was  the  order  to  those  lazyHoosiers  to  resume 
the  pick  and  shovel. 


SOWING  FOR  OTHERS  TO  REAP.  435 

The  hours  dragged  slowly  along— and  so  did  the  work. 
No  doubt  a  few  shots  on  the  picket-line,  followed  by  the 
galloping  in  of  a  stampeded  cavalryman,  would  have 
urged  them  to  greater  activity;  although  they  had  not  yet 
learned  by  experimental  knowledge  what  a  very  comfort- 
able thing  it  was,  sometimes,  to  have  a  good  hne  of  works 
to  get  behind— and  the  comfort  and  satisfaction  were 
always  in  proportion  to  the  height  and  thickness  of  the 
wall  of  dirt  and  logs.  Thus  far  their  ideas  of  fighting  were 
confined  to  a  square,  stand-up,  give-and-take,  with  bullet 
and  bayonet.  They  had  a  vague  notion  that  fortifications 
might  come  handy  in  certain  contingencies,  but  on  the 
whole  they  were  at  this  time  willing  to  take  the  chances 
in  open  field. 

"I  wouldn't  mind  it  so  much,"  said  Si,  as  he  looked  rue- 
fully at  a  well-developed  bhster  that  had  already  made  its 
appearance  on  one  of  his  hands,  '4f  the  Johnnies  'd  only 
march  up  in  front  o'  the  works  after  we  git  'em  done  and 
let  us  shoot  'em.  We'd  end  the  war  purty  sudden.  But  I 
don't  s'pose  we'll  git  a  chance  ter  fight  behind  'em  arter 
we've  built  'em.  We'll  be  sure  ter  go  scootin'  off  some 
where  'n'  some  other  fellers,  lazier  'n  we  be,  '11  come  in 
here  n'  git  the  good  of  'em." 

Si  was  about  right.  It  was  seldom,  indeed,  that  the 
drums  and  bugles  did  not  sound  for  a  break-up  as  soon  as 
the  boys  had  finished  a  good  job  of  intrenching.  Then 
other  troops  would  come  along  and  enjoy  the  fruit  of  their 
labors. 

To  the  members  of  the  200th  Indiana  the  sun  seemed  to 
stand  still  that  day.  They  thought  it  never  would  go 
down.  It  did  reach  the  horizon  at  last,  and  with  unspeak* 
able  relief  the  soldiers  obeyed  the  order  to  fall  in  and 
march  back  to  camp. 

''If  I  ever  'list  ag'in,"said  Si,  as  he  washed  the  dust  and 
sweat  from  his  hands  and  face.  Shorty  supplying  him  with 
water  from  a  canteen,  ''I'm  goin'ter  haveasquar'barg'in. 


436 


SI  OUT  OF  JOINT. 


1^11  have  it  all  down  in  black  'n'  white  so  I'll  know  jest 
what  I've  got  ter  do.  I  s'posed  soljers  jest  had  ter  wear 
nice  clothes  kivered  with  brass  buttons,  'n'  march  'round 
with  the  flags  a-flyin'  'n'  the  bands  a-playin'  in  galyant 
style.  That's  the  way  they  all  do  up  North,  but  it's  a 
mighty  sight  diff'runt  down  here.  It  jest  knocks  a  feller's 
notions  higher  'n  Gilderoy's  kite!  " 

**  Thar    ye  go    ag'in,  blowin'   off  yer  steam,*'  replied 
Shorty,  as  Si  took  the  canteen  and  began  to  pour  water 

on  his  comrade's  grimy 
hands.  ''I  knowed  a 
good  deal  'bout  it  'fore 
I  jined  the  army,  from 
what  I'd  read  and 
heern,  but  I  never  told 
ye  'cause  I  didn't  want 
ter  make  ye  feel  ba^ 
'forehand.  'Tain't- 
wuth  while  ter  be  fret- 
tin'  'bout  what's  ahead 
o'  ye.  Now  cheer  up, 
pard,  'n'  we'll  do  our 
sheer,  whether  it's 
marchin'  er  fightin'  er 
diggin'.  But  I  tell  ye, 
Si,  we  ain't  goin'  ter 


CAMP  ABLUTIONS. 


do 


any    more    n    our 


share.    Ye  kin  jest  bet  yer  gunboats  on  that." 

Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  the  work  w^ent  on. 
There  \vas  nothing  but  picking  and  shoveling  dirt  and 
cutting  fagots  and  tying  them  into  fascines  and  gabions^ 
to  be  used  in  the  embrasures  and  inner  walls.  The  boys 
grew  very  tired  of  such  plodding,  uneventful  toil.  They 
wrought  themselves  up  to  thebelief  that  they  would  rather 
tramp,  and  even  fight  a  little  now  and  then,  than  to  wear 
their  lives    away  in  digging.      There   was   nothing  in- 


BEATING  THE  DOCTORS.  437 

Spiring  or  exciting  about  it,  and  patriotism  was  at  a  low 
ebb. 

The  warm  weather  came,  and  still  the  great  work  was 
unfinished.  Under  the  broiling  sun  the  perspiring  soldiers 
still  kept  shoveling  and  chopping,  grumbling  at  the  cruel 
fate  that  had  overtaken  them,  and  constantly  exercising 
their  wits  to  find  new  schemes  that  seemed  to  give  promise 
of  success  in  ''playing  off."  Every  man  considered  it  his 
inalienable  right  to  do  this  if  he  could.  He  who  was  most 
fortunate  in  "beating"  the  doctors  was  an  object  of  su- 
preme envy  to  all  his  comrades. 

Si  and  Shorty  contrived  to  get  a  day  or  two  off  now 
and  then,  nor  did  they  seem  to  suffer  from  the  smitings  of 
conscience  by  reason  of  the  means  they  emplo^-ed  to  com- 
pass their  ends.  They  did  not  propose  to  work  all  the 
time.  They  were  going  to  get  their  share  of  rest,  by  fair 
means  or  foul — and  they  did. 

One  day  Si  told  the  orderly  he  wasn't  able  to  work,  but 
the  orderly  said  he  would  have  to  shoulder  an  axe  or  a 
shovel,  unless  he  was  excused  by  the  doctor.  He  went  up 
at  sick-call  and  made  a  wry  face,  with  his  hands  clasped 
over  his  body  in  the  latitude  of  his  waistband.  The  doc- 
tor gave  him  a  lot  of  blue-mass  pills,  which  Si  threw  into 
the  fire  as  soon  as  he  got  back  to  his  quarters.  Then  he 
spent  the  day  in  learning  to  play  seven-up.  He  thought 
this  was  a  great  idea,  but  he  tried  it  once  too  often.  The 
doctor  ''caught  on,"  and  said,  the  next  time  Si  went 
up,  that  castor  oil  was  what  he  needed  to  fetch  him 
around.  So  he  poured  out  a  large  dose  and  made  him 
take  it  right  then  and  there.  This  was  worse  than  dig- 
ging. 

Sometimes  Si  would  eat  nothing  for  a  day,  carefully 
putting  away  his  rations,  however,  for  subsequent  use. 
This  rarely  failed,  with  him,  to  make  out  a  prima  facie 
case  of  sickness  sufi&ciently  grave  to  secure  an  excuse  from 
duty.    Everybody  in  the  regiment  knew  that  when  he  did 


438  shorty's  success. 

not  eat  his  full  quota  of  hardtack  and  bacon  something 
was  the  matter.  The  doctor  was  assisted  in  making  up 
his  verdict  by  the  marked  effect  of  abstinence  upon  Si.  It 
did,  in  fact,  make  him  sick;  but  as  soon  as  he  got  back  to 
his  quarters  he  found  in  his  haversack  a  sovereign  remedy. 
He  would  eat  up  everything  in  sight  and  be  speedily  re- 
stored to  his  normal  condition. 

Shorty  proved  to  be  highly  gifted  in  the  popular  art  of 
feigning  sickness.  He  could  make  any  doctor  in  Christen- 
dom believe — for  a  few  times— that  he  was  on  the  outer- 
most verge  of  his  mortal  existence  and  was  about  to  be 
gathered  to  his  fathers.  He  was  shrewd  enough  to  know 
that  he  could  not  reasonably  expect  to  play  it  always  on 
the  same  doctor.  So  he  would  watch  when  a  different  one 
— the  surgeon,  or  an  assistant,  or  sometimes  the  hospital 
steward— was  running  the  pill  shop.  If  it  was  not  the 
same  doctor  that  excused  him  the  last  time.  Shorty  would 
be  suddenly  seized  with  a  violent  and  painful  illness,  and 
generally  with  highly  satisfactory  results. 

The  pretended  spraining  of  an  ankle,  with  a  little  col- 
oring matter  artistically  applied  to  the  unlucky  member, 
coupled  with  the  judicious  use  of  a  cane  or  an  improvised 
crutch,  at  one  time  secured  nearly  a  week  of  release  from 
pick  and  shovel.  A  little  flour  sprinkled  upon  the  tongue 
gave  it  a  coating  which,  once  or  twice,  deceived  the  hasty 
glance  of  the  doctor,  and  led  him  to  believe  that  the  pa- 
tient had  a  clear  case  of  fever,  which  gave  him  respite  from 
work. 

Most  of  the  time  gained  by  these  schemes  was  spent  by 
the  boys  of  Company  Q  in  their  tents  playing  euchre  and 
"old  sledge."  It  was  an  unlucky  day  for  Si  and  Shorty 
when  an  officer,  who  was  nosing  around  the  camp,  stuck  his 
head  into  the  tent  where  exercises  of  this  kind  were  in  pro- 
gress. Si  had  a  good  hand,  and  was  just  leading  out  with 
greax  earnestness  in  an  effort  to  "ketch  jack  "from  Shorty. 
Five  minutes  later  they  were  on  the  way,  under  guard,  to 


THE  DOCTORS  AHEAD. 


439 


the  fortifications,  where  the^^  were  made  to  buckle  in  for 
the  rest  of  the  day. 

Some  of  the  doctors  whose  hearts,  when  they  entered  the 
service,  were  overflowing  with  the  milk  of  human  kindness, 
had  the  wool  pulled  over  their  eyes  at  first  by  the  flimsy 
deceptions  to  w^hich  the  bo^^s  soon  learned  to  resort  to  get 
excused  from  fatigue  duty ;  but  after  a  few  months  of  prac- 
tice they  got  so  that  thc}^  could  tell  a  sick  man  when  they 
saw  him.  Then  they  took  a  fiendish  delight  in  making  life 
a  burden  to  the  ''play- 
offs . ' '  They  poured  hor- 
rible doses  down  their 
throats,  and  this  would 
often  be  supplemented 
by  a  trick  of  extra  duty. 
Human  ingenuity  was 
literally  exhausted  by 
the  soldiers  in  their 
efforts  to  outflank  the 
doctors.  Often  they,; 
achieved  a  temporary  >, 
success,  but  in  the  longi 
run  the  doctors  rarely| 
failed  to  come  out) 
ahead. 

Si  had  heard  a  good 
deal  about  the  "Articles 
of  War,"  and  one  day, 
after  fatigue  duty  was  over,  he  borrowed  the  captain's 
''Army  Regulations"  to  see  what  the  articles  were.  He 
had  not  read  far  when  he  burst  into  a  laus^h. 

"Shorty,"  he  said,  "jest  listen  ter  this"— and  he  read 
aloud  Art.  3,  as  follows  : 


AN  UNEXPECTED  GUEST. 


Any  non-commissioned  officer  or  soldier  who  shall  use  any  profane 
oath  or  execration  shall,  for  his  first  offense,  forfeit  one-sixth  of  a  dollar, 
^o  t>e  deducted  out  of  his  next  pay ;  for  the  second  and  each  subsequent 


440  NO  NEED  OF  A  WAR  DEBT. 

offense  lie  shall  forfeit  a  like  sum  and  be  confined  for  twenty-four  hours ' 
and  a  commissioned  officer  shall  forfeit  and  pay,  for  each  and  everj^  such 
offense,  one  dollar. 

''This  ^war  must  be  costin'  a  heap  o'  money,"  continued 
Si,  "'n'  I've  read  't  they  was  gittin'  a  big  nashnel  debt. 
'Pears  ter  me  ef  they  'd  jest  stick  it  to  the  soljers  'n'  the 
ossifers  'cordin'  ter  this  article  o'  war  they  'd  have  money 
'nuff  ter  pay  everything  's  they  go  'long,  'n'  not  have 
ter  be  borryin'  all  the  time  'n'  givin'  guvyment  bonds. 
"Wouldn't  they  sock  it  to  the  ossifers?  It  'd  cost  'em  six 
times  's  much  fer  the  priv'lege  o'  sw'arin'  's  it  would  them 
as  carries  muskits."  vi 

*'I  never  knowed  ther'  was  any  sichreggelation  'sthat," 
replied  Shorty,  "'n' I  don't  reck'n  any  o' the  boys  ever  heerd 
'bout  it.  I  shouldn't  wonder  ef  they  waslayin'fer  us  with 
some  sort  o'  skullduggery.  The  chapl'ins  don't  have  much 
else  ter  do,  'n'  mebbe  they're  keepin'  tally  on  us,  'n'  when 
the  war's  over  like  'nuff  Uncle  Sam  '11  bring  in  his  bill  fer 
it  all  to  oncet." 

''Ef  they  do"  said  Si,  "It'll  be  purty  rough  on  some  on 
'em.  I  'low  most  o'  the  big  gin'rals  '11  be  busted,  'n'  the 
mule-drivers  '11  owe  the  guvyment  'bout  a  million  dollars 
apiece." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

In  WmcH  Si  Serves  as  a  Railway  Traix  Guard  and  has  a  Cali* 

FROM  Guerrillas. 

AN  unusual  stir  was  occasioned  one  evening  in  the 
camp  of  the  200th  Indiana,  by  an  order  for  half  the 
regiment,  including  Company  0,  to  be  ready  in  an  hour  to 
go  as  guard  for  a  railroad  train,  which  \vas  to  return  on  the 
following  day  with  supplies  for  the  army. 


A  PROSPECTIVE  EXCURSION.  441 

''That'll  be  jest  fun,  won't  it,  Shorty?"  exclaimed  Si 
Klegg,  as  he  and  his  comrade  hustled  around,  making  the 
necessary  arrangements  for  the  trip.  ''  Ridin'  on  the  keers 
'11  be  a  heap  better  'n  hoofin'  it,  with  a  feller's  bones  achin' 
'n'  his  feet  smartin'.  Ye  know,  we  kin  git  right  inter 
one  o'  the  passenger-keers  'n'  be  reel  comFtable.  It'll  be 
suthin  like  ter  travel  'n  that  sort  o'  style.  I  wouldn't 
mind  sarvin'  out  my  time  a-doin'  that." 

Si  was  in  high  glee  at  the  prospect  of  what  he  thought 
would  be  in  the  nature  of  a  pleasure  excursion.  With  a 
light  heart  he  stowed  a^way  some  hardtack  in  his  haver- 
sack, filled  his  canteen,  and  examined  the  contents  of  his 
cartridge-box. 

''What  do  we  want  our  blankets  fer  ?"  he  said  to  Shorty, 
as  he  saw  the  latter  rolling  his  up  with  the  evident  design 
of  taking  it  along.  '"Pears  to  me  they'll  only  be  in  the 
way  'n'  we'd  better  leave  'em." 

"I'm  goin'  tcr  stick  ter  mine,"  replied  Shorty,  laughing 
to  himself  at  Si's  luxurious  ideas,  "  'n'  my  advice  to  ye  is 
ter  take  yourn.  I'll  miss  my  guess  ef  ye  don't  find  use  fer 
it  'fore  mornin'.  I'm  'fraid  ye're  foolin'  yerself 'bout  the 
coaches,  's  they  calls  'em.  Mebbe  we'll  have  'em,  but 
'cordin'  ter  my  notion  it's  a  good  deal  more  likely  we 
'won't." 

At  the  signal  the  companies  formed  and  marched  to  the 
train.  This  was  composed  of  twenty  or  thirty  ordinary 
box  cars. 

' '  D'ye  see  any  passinger-keers  hitched  onto  that  'ere  train, 
Si?"  asked  Shorty  with  a  broad  grin. 

A  look  of  disappointment  passed  over  Si's  face  as  he  ran 
his  eye  quickly  from  one  end  of  the  train  to  the  other. 

"Don't  look  much  like  it !"  he  replied. 

Again  his  exuberant  vision  of  "having  a  good  time" 
was  rudely  dissipated.  But  this  had  happened  so  often 
that  it  was  getting  to  be  an  old  story.  Fortunately  for 
:him  his  dispositirxi  was  hke  a  ball  of  India-rubber,  that 


442  ON  THE  HURRICANE-DECK. 

yields  for  an  instant  to  a  sudden  blow  and  then  springs 
at  once  back  to  its  proper  shape. 

''Wall,  Shorty,"  he  said,  ''it'll  be  some  satisfaction  ter 
ride  in  them  keers,  if  'tis  same  's  cattle." 

Shorty  smiled  again,  for  he  knew  thej^  would  have  to 
take  passage  on  the  "hurricane  deck."  The  cars  were 
filled  with  sick  men  and  discouraged  cavalry  and  artillery 
horses,  bound  for  the  hospitals  and  convalescent  camps  in 
the  rear;  for  the  army  was  getting  rid  of  its  incum- 
brances preparatory  to  a  general  advance. 

"  Company  Q,  tumble  up  on  top  o' them  k'yars,"  shouted 
the  orderl3^ 

"What,  hev  we  got  ter  ride  up  thar?"  said  Si,  with  as^ 
tonishment. 

"That's  jest  the  size  of  it,"  replied  vShorty.  "Iknowed 
how  it  'd  be.  I  'low  jQ  won't  be  sorry  ye  fotched  yer 
blanket  with  ye!" 

Climbing  between  the  cars,  encumbered  with  arms  and 
accouterments,  was  not  an  easy  task.  There  was  a  great 
deal  of  slipping  and  tugging  and  "boosting,"  with  the  full 
quota  of  yelling.  Si  and  Shorty  clambered  up  as  best  they 
could,  and  found  themselves,  with  some  twenty  others, 
looking  for  soft  spots  on  the  roof  of  a  crazy  car.  One  of 
those  copious  dews,  peculiar  to  the  southern  climate,  even 
in  midsummer,  had  made  the  top  of  the  car  slippery  to  the 
feet  and  cold  and  clammy  to  the  touch. 

"Purty  scurvy  place  ter  sleep!  "  exclaimed  Si,  as  he  un- 
loaded some  of  his  traps,  flung  his  rolled-up  blanket  upon 
the  ridge-board,  and  sat  down  upon  it  to  think  over  the 
matter.     "How  does  it  strike  j'ou.  Shorty?  *'  he  asked. 

"Didn't  spectnothin' else,"  replied  his  comrade.  "P'r'aps 
^ve  won't  git  much  chance  ter  sleep,  anyway.  Like  as  not 
some  o'  them  pesky  g'rillas  '11  throw  us  off  the  track  'n' 
capter  the  hull  outfit." 

"D'3^e  realh^  b'lieve  they  will,  Shorty?"  said  Si,  with 
alarm.    He  had  not  thought  of  this  as  a  possible  outcome 


A  BUMPY  RIDE.  443 

of  the  expedition.     It  might  turn  out  to  be  a  serious  busi- 
ness, after  all. 

''Course  I  don't  know  nothin'  'bout  it,  Si,  'n'  I  don't 
b'lieve  one  way  ner  t'other.  Sich  things  has  bin  did,  'n' 
they're  jest  's  likely  ter  hap'nter  us  's  anybody  else.  Them 
mizzable  critters  is  alius  pitchin'  on  when  ye  least  expect 
'em." 

As  soon  as  the  men  were  on  board,  the  engine,  a  wheezy, 
old-fashioned  wood-burner,  gave  a  warning  \f  histle  and 
immediately  pulled  out  into  the  darkness.  The  men  spread 
their  blankets  and  lay  down,  with  their  heads  to  the  ridge 
and  their  feet  in  a  row  alonsf  either  edsre. 

All  who  remember  the  condition  of  the  southern  rail- 
roads during  the  war  will  appreciate  the  night  ride  of  those 
Hoosier  soldiers.  The  track  was  rough  and  crooked,  and 
the  cars  swayed  from  side  to  side,  and  bobbed  up  and 
down,  and  jolted  one  against  another  in  a  way  that  kept 
the  more  timid  ones  in  a  state  of  consternation  lest  the 
train  should  go  through  a  bridge  or  pile  itself  in  a  heap  at 
the  foot  of  an  embankment.  The  chances  seemed  to  favor 
some  sudden  stoppage  of  that  kind. 

''If  a  feller's  got  ter  die  fer  his  country,"  said  Si,  as  he 
lay  holding  fast  to  Shorty  so  that  he  might  not  be  shaken 
off  the  car,  "I'd  a  heap  ruther  a  cannon  ball  'd  take  my 
head  off  while  I  was  chargin' a  battery,  or  be  stabbed  with 
a  bay 'net  in  a  rough-'n '-tumble  scrimmage,  than  ter  be 
ground  all  to  pieces  in  a  railroad  smash-up.  Thar  ain't  a 
bit  o'  glory  dyin'  that  way." 

As  the  result  of  the  constant  shaking,  the  prostrate  forms 
of  the  men  show^ed  a  continual  tendency  to  slide  off  the  roof 
It  was  long  before  Si  and  Shorty  dared  to  close  their  eyes, 
but  at  last,  overcome  by  weariness,  they  were  cradled  to 
sleep  by  the  swinging  motion  of  the  cars.  It  was  only 
for  a  brief  and  fitful  "cat-nap."  Shorty  awoke  with  a 
start  to  find  that  both  himself  and  Si  had  slipped  do\^4n 


444 


WHAT  MIGHT  HAVE  HAPPENED. 


until  their  legs  were  dangling  over  the  precipice,  and  their 
heels  thumping  against  the  side  of  the  car. 

"  Wake  up,  Si,  quick,  or  you're  a  goner!"  he  shouted,  as, 
recovering  himself,  he  seized  his  comrade  and  assisted  him 
to  scramble  back  upon  the  treacherous  roof.  ''We  come 
mighty  near  bein' joggled  off." 

Si's  heart  beat  furiously  for  a  moment  as  he  thought 


RIDING   ON  A  rail"   IN  THE  ARMY. 


what  a  narrow  escape  it  was,  and  how  badly  Annabel 
would  have  felt  if  he  had  tumbled  off  and  been  killed. 

For  the  next  hour  they  kept  wide  awake.  Si  suggested 
thatif  they  only  had  a  rope  they  might  tie  themselves  to  the 
ridge-board,  but  as  they  had  none  the  proposition  did  not 
help  them  out.    So  they  took  turns  at  sleeping,  one  remain- 


NOT  SO   FUNNY,   AFTER  ALL.  44d 

ing  on  guard  to  prevent  accident.  On  talking  it  over  they 
had  concluded  that  if  they  were  to  be  attacked  by  guerrillas, 
it  w^as  more  likely  to  be  on  the  return  trip,  when  the 
train  would  be  loaded  with  supplies,  and  therefore  a  much, 
greater  prize  to  the  rebel  troopers. 

Meanwhile  the  train  kept  on  its  swinging,  jostling  way. 
The  engine  puffed  and  snorted,  and  the  smoke  and  cinders 
streamed  along  the  top  of  the  cars,  filling  the  e^-es  and 
ears  and  blackening  the  faces  of  the  soldiers.  Sparks  and 
glowing  coals  fell  upon  them  in  a  continual  shower,  burn- 
ing countless  holes  through  clothes  and  blankets.  Now 
and  then  a  frantic  ''Ouch!"  told  that  the  fire  had  found 
its  way  through  and  was  getting  in  its  blistering  work  on 
the  skin.  If  there  was  any  mode  of  traveling  productive 
of  greater  discomfort,  those  men  had  not  yet  experienced 
it.  A  twenty-mile  march  was  sportive  recreation  by  com- 
parison. 

There  were  the  usual  long  delays  and  ** waits"  that 
characterized  the  chaotic  management  of  those  confiscated 
railroads.  Two  or  three  times  large  details  were  made  to 
''wood  up,"  the  necessary  fuel  being  procured  by  chopping 
fence  rails.  At  other  points  the  men  were  obliged  to  pump 
water  to  supply  the  engine. 

It  was  morning  when  the  train  reached  its  destination. 
As  Si  clambered  down  from  the  car,  weary  and  stiff,  his 
face  and  hands  begrimed  with  dirt  and  smoke,  he  would 
scarcely  have  been  recognized  as  the  jubilant  youth  of  the 
evening  before,  elated  at  the  prospect  of  soldiering  in  a 
passenger-car.  He  felt,  and  looked,  as  if  that  night  had 
added  ten  years  to  his  life.  He  had  caught  his  full  share 
of  the  sparks,  and  his  overcoat  appeared  as  if  it  had  becii 
used  as  a  target  by  a  company  during  a  day's  practice  at 
shooting. 

''Now,  men,  ye  want  to  stir  around  lively  and  git  yer 
breakfast,"  said  the  orderly,  "cause  ye've  got  to  pitch 
right  in  an'  load  up  these  here  k'yars !  " 


446  LEGITIMATE  PLUNDER. 

Si  had  not  reckoned  on  this,  and  he  grumbled  to  Shorty 
as  they  limbered  themselves  up,  washed  their  hands  and 
faces,  kindled  a  fire,  and  made  coffee  and  toasted  bacon.  A 
chance  to  get  all  he  wanted  to  eat  brought  him  around  in 
good  shape,  and  he  was  himself  again — good-natured  as 
ever,  and  ready  to  do  his  part. 

Beside  the  railroad  were  huge  piles  of  stores — boxes  of 
clothing  and  hardtack,  casks  of  bacon,  barrels  of  pickled 
pork,  sugar,  coffee  and  beans,  great  bundles  of  blankets, 
bales  of  hay,  and  sacks  of  corn— to  supply  the  men  and 
animals  of  the  arm^^  The  men  swarmed  around,  twenty 
or  thirty  to  each  car,  and  in  scarcely  more  than  an  hour 
the  train  was  loaded  to  its  full  capacity.  When  a  cracker- 
box  gave  way  or  the  head  fell  out  of  a  sugar  barrel,  the 
men  made  good  use  of  the  opportunity  to  replenish  their 
supplies.  By  the  time  the  work  was  done  all  the  haver- 
sacks of  the  detachment  were  filled  to  repletion.  Corporal 
Klegg,  in  addition,  stuffed  all  his  pockets  full  of  commis- 
sary stores.  In  the  promise  of  an  abundance  for  the 
next  few  days  he  found  some  compensation  for  the  dis- 
comfort and  labor  of  the  trip. 

As  soon  as  the  Avork  v^^as  finished  the  train  v^as  ordered 
to  start  directly  for  ''the  front."  The  companies  were 
formed  and  the  somewhat  ominous  command  ''Load  at 
will — Load!''  was  given.  The  clink  of  the  ramrods  had  the 
sound  of  business.  The  men  knew  Vv^hat  it  meant,  and  as 
they  clambered  again  to  the  roofs  of  the  cars  their  faces 
reflected  the  sober  thoughts  that  w^ere  passing  through 
their  minds.  There  was  an  absence  of  the  usual  levity,  as 
they  discussed  the  probability  of  being  molested  by  rebel 
cavalrymen.  While  engaged  in  loading  the  cars  they  had 
been  repeatedly  cautioned  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout.  Ru- 
mors were  always  more  numerous  and  of  greater  size  in 
the  rear  than  at  the  front. 

"Tell  ye  what.  Shorty,  "  said  Si,  as  they  lay  on  the  roof 
of  the  car, "we  won't  have  much  of  a  show  up  here  in  a 


BACK  TO  THE  FRONT. 


447 


fight.  The  Johnnies  '11  jest  peck  away  at  us  'n'  we  can't 
help  ourselves.  There  ain't  no  trees  er  fences  fer  us  to  git 
behind,  n'  a  feller  can't  even  dodge  'thout  tumblin'  off  the 


LOADING  UP. 

keer.    I  don't  want  more'n  'n  even  chance,  but  seems  like 
the  odds  was  all  agin  us." 
*'We  can't  have  things  jest   's  we  want  'em,"  replied 


44<8  BREAKERS  AHEAD. 

Shorty,  *'  'n'  we've  got  ter  make  the  best  on  it.  I'm  ready 
ter  go  my  bottom  dollar  on  ye,  whatever  comes." 

The  train  bumped  and  jolted  along  the  uneven  track. 
Every  eye  that  was  not  full  of  dust  and  cinders  was 
strained  to  catch  the  slightest  indication  of  any  hostile 
band  lurking  about.  Mile  after  mile  was  passed  in  safety, 
and  every  turn  of  the  wheels  seemed  to  lessen  the  danger. 

As  the  train  dashed  around  a  sharp  curve  the  engineer 
discovered  a  pile  of  logs  and  stones  upon  the  track.  He 
v^as  a  cool-headed  man  and  knew  just  what  to  do  in  the 
emergency.  It  took  as  much  nerve  to  be  a  ''railroader" 
in  the  government  service  as  it  did  to  be  a  soldier.  Many 
of  those  intrepid  engineers  and  brakemen  quite  as  often 
heard  bullets  whistle,  and  had  their  wits  and  their  pluck 
taxed  to  the  utmost  to  get  them  out  of  tight  places. 

The  engineer  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble to  plow  through  the  obstruction.  The  train  ^^ould 
inevitably  be  ''ditched"  and  the  alternative  of  fight  or 
surrender  forced  upon  them.  Quick  as  a  flash  he  deter- 
mined to  stop  the  train.  There  was  not  an  instant  to 
lose.  Reversing  his  engine  and  pulling  the  throttle  wide 
open,  he  whistled  down  brakes.  The  shriek  of  the  whistle 
pierced  the  ears  of  the  soldiers.  Every  man  seized  his  gun 
and  looked  eagerly  ahead.  Crack!  crack!  went  a  dozen 
carbines  and  as  many  bullets  went  singing  over  the  heads 
of  the  guards. 

"Jest  wait  t'll  the  train  stops,  'n'  we  git  a  chance  to  go 
for  'em,"  Si  said  to  Shorty,  who  Avas  at  his  side  ready 
for  anything  except  being  captured.  Just  then  he  saw 
one  of  his  comrades  tying  a  white  handkerchief  to  his 
ramrod. 

"What  ye  doin'  that  fer?"  said  Si. 

"I  d-didn't  know  b-but  we  m-might  have  to  s-s-surren- 
der,"  he  stammered  in  reply,  through  his  white  lips,  dodg- 
ing to  get  out  of  the  way  of  a  bullet  that  went  whizzing 
ten  feet  above  his  head,  "an'  I  jest  th-thought  I'd  g-git 


A  TILT    WITH  GUERRILLAS.  449 

this  thing  ready  to  shake  at  'em  an'  tell  'em  we  g-give  up 
afore  we  was  all  k-killed !" 

''You  put  that  'ere  wipe  back  into  yer  pocket  jest 's  quick 
's  ever  ye  kin!"  said  Si,  his  eyes  blazing  with  indignation. 
"Ef  ye  don't  ye'll  be  huntin'  'round  fer  a  hospital  mighty 
sudden.  Company  Q  ain't  goin'  ter  have  no  white  rags 
stuck  up  here.  Dye  s'pose  were  goin'  ter  s'render?  No- 
sir-ce-bob  !  We're  goin'  ter  thrash  the  daylights  out  o* 
them  fellers!" 

By  this  time  the  train  was  nearly  at  a  stand.  On  either 
side  of  the  track  were  the  cavalry-men  in  gray  prancing 
about  and  yelling  to  the  blue-coats  to  surrender,  backing 
up  the  demand  with  their  carbines  and  revolvers.  This 
was  an  argument  that  had  two  sides,  and  the  men  of  the 
200th  Indiana  delivered  a  well-directed  fire  that  caused 
several  of  them  to  reel  from  their  saddles  and  threw  the 
remainder  into  confusion,  evidently  suggesting  to  their 
minds  the  thought  that  possibly  they  had  waked  up  the 
wrong  passengers. 

"Now, men,  to  the  ground,  quick,  and  at  them !"  shouted 
the  officer  in  command. 

The  soldiers  clambered  down  with  all  speed,  many  leap- 
ing from  the  cars  in  their  zeal  to  obey  the  order.  It  was 
one  of  those  critical  times  when  a  moment  might  decide 
the  issue  of  the  fight.  Instinctivel3^  each  man  seized  his 
bayonet,  and  in  an  instant  the  bright  shafts  of  steel  glis- 
tened in  the  sunlight. 

' '  For  ward— Double-quick— March ! " 

Away  the^^  went,  with  a  yell.  Horses  will  not  stand 
before  a  determined  bayonet  charge.  The  terrified  animals 
turned  and  fled,  bearing  away  their  not  unwilling  riders. 
The  latter,  finding  that  they  had  reckoned  without  their 
host,  were  only  too  glad  to  make  good  their  retreat. 
Hastily  reloading  their  pieces,  the  plucky  Hoosiers  sent 
their  farewell  compliments  after  the  fleeing  horsemen  and 
then  returned  to  the  train. 


450 


NO  USE  FOR   WHITE   FLAGS. 


As  a  general  thing  these  predatory  bands  of  marauders 
vvere  very  brave  when  they  outnumbered  their  opponents 
tour  or  five  to  one.  A  stout  resistance,  unless  the  odds 
were  too  great,  seldom  failed  to  drive  off  the  assailants. 

Corporal  Klegg  was  in  high  feather  over  the  result,  to 
wiiich  he  had  contributed  his  full  share.  "Told  ye  we'd 
lick  'em!"  he  said  to  the  comrade  who,  yielding  to  the 
weakness  of  the  flesh,  had  made  preparations  to  display  a 
white  flag,  but  who,  after  all,  had  charged  in  the  front 
rank  and  borne  himself  bravely  through  the  skirmish. 


A   BRUSH    WITH   GUERRILLAS. 


**Now  when  ye  git  back  ter  camp,"  continued  Si,  *'jest 
throw  that  hankercher  into  the  fire,  'n'  go  ter  the  skinner 
^n'  git  one  o'  some  other  color.  The  200th  Injianny  hain't 
got  no  use  fer  anything  ter  make  white  flags  of.  Ef  ye 
hain't  got  'em  ye  won't  think  o'  usin'  'em.  " 

The  firing  had  not  been  wholly  without  effect,  and  a  few 
were  killed  and  wounded  on  both  sides.  These  were  gath- 
ered up  and  placed  on  board,  the  track  was  speedily 
cleared,  the  men  once  more  mounted  to  the  roofs  of  the 


ANOTHER  BATTLE.  451 

cars,  and  the  train  sped  on  its  way.  In  due  time,  without 
further  molestation,  it  entered  the  lines  of  the  great  army. 

Next  day,  at  dress-parade,  an  order  from  the  cojnmand- 
ing  general  was  read,  complimenting  in  the  highest  terms 
the  gallant  conduct  of  the  detachment. 

''  Tally  one  more  fer  us,  "  Si  said  to  Shorty,  as  he  sat 
boiling  his  coffee  for  supper. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  Rebels  Cut  the  "Cracker-Line"  and  Si  is  Put  on  Quarter 

Rations. 

ANOTHER  great  engagement  took  place.  The  200th 
Indiana  was  in  the  forefront  of  battle.  Its  thinned 
ranks  and  its  long  list  of  killed  and  wounded  again  bore 
eloquent  testimony  to  the  gallantry  of  its  officers  and  men. 
Both  Si  and  Shorty  were  so  fortunate  as  to  pass  un- 
scathed through  the  dreadful  storm..  Side  by  side  they 
stood  in  the  ranks  and  quailed  not  in  the  awful  presence 
of  death. 

Overwhelmed  by  the  superior  force  of  the  enemy,  the 
Union  army  was  compelled  to  give  ground.  Stubbornly 
it  yielded,  fighting  desperately,  and  bravely  meeting  the 
onward  sweep  of  the  exultant  foe.  Lines  of  musketry 
blazed  defiantly,  and  batteries  of  artillery,  planted  on 
each  advantageous  spot  during  the  sullen  retreat,  belched 
forth  murderous  missiles. 

Falling  back  to  a  chosen  position  the  army  planted 
itself,  determined  to  yield  no  more.  It  had  suffered  a  tem- 
porary reverse,  but  its  spirit  was  unbroken,  its  courage 
unfaltering.  All  through  the  long  night,  and  the  next  day, 
the  uncomplaining  soldiers,  though  wearied  by  days  and 


452  ON   HALF  RATIONS. 

nights  of  marching  and  fighting  and  sleepless  watching, 
toiled  with  pick  and  shovel,  under  the  constant  fire  of  the 
enemy,  to  make  their  position  secure. 

The  Confederates,  jubilant  over  their  success,  mounted 
their  heaviest  cannon  upon  the  surrounding  hills  and, 
stretching  out  their  long  arms,  grasped  the  line  of  railroad 
which  was  the  only  source  of  supply  for  the  Union  army. 
Then  they  sat  quietly  down  to  wait  for  hunger  to  do  what 
valor  could  not. 

The  soldiers  and  animals  of  the  imprisoned  army  were 
immediately  put  on  half  rations  and  the  strictest  orders 
were  issued  against  waste  of  anything  that  would  afibrd 
sustenance  to  manor  beast.  Much  of  thetime  was  passed, 
night  and  day,  in  the  trenches.  On  the  front  line  whole 
brigades  and  divisions  stayed  for  twenty-four  hours  at  a 
time  in  order  of  battle.  At  night  part  of  the  men  lay 
down  and  slept,  with  their  loaded  muskets  by  their  sides, 
while  others  watched.  If  a  shot  was  heard  on  the  out- 
posts they  sprang  to  their  feet  in  an  instant  and  took 
their  places  at  the  works.  Without  shelter,  drenched  by 
frequent  rains  and  chilled  by  nipping  frosts,  with  rations 
meager  and  daily  growing  less,  those  brave,  patient  men, 
through  weary  weeks  that  lengthened  into  months,  with 
unexampled  intrepidity  and  fortitude,  defied  alike  hunger, 
storm,  and  haughty  foe. 

Si  Klegg  had  become  pretty  well  "seasoned  "  during  his 
year  and  more  of  campaigning.  He  had  seen,  for  that 
period,  a  fair  share  of  hard  service;  but  these  times  that 
"tried  "men's  stomachs  as  well  as  their  souls  proved  more 
serious  to  him  than  any  of  his  prior  experiences.  Marching 
had  been  robbed  of  its  terrors,  the  nightly  vigil  upon  the 
lonely  outpost  had  become  a  part  of  his  regular  duty,  and 
he  was  always  ready  for  a  "whack"  at  the  rebels  in  bat- 
tle or  skirmish.  But  when  the  enemy  assailed  his  haver- 
sack, by  cutting  off  his  supplies,  it  was  a  grave  matter,, 
that  made  heavy  demands  upon  his  patience  and  endur- 


RATHER  FIGHT  THAN  STARVE.  453 

ance.  The  full  army  ration  was  just  up  to  the  measure  of 
his  needs.  He  had  never  seen  the  time  when  he  could  not 
''get  away"  with  his  daily  allowance.  If  the  reduction 
had  been  made  by  easy  stages  he  might  have  educated  his 
appetite  to  meet  the  exigency,  but  this  sudden  and  alarm- 
ing shrinkage  filled  him  with  dismay. 

In  this  land  of  plenty  there  are  few  who  know— as  did 
many  thousands  of  the  soldiers— what  it  is  to  feel  for  weeks 
at  a  time  the  incessant  gnawings  of  hunger.  In  all  the 
range  of  human  sensibilities  there  is  no  other  feeling  so 
searching  and  corroding  as  this.  It  clutches  the  verj^ 
heart-strings,  sours  the  temper,  and  makes  a  man  desper- 
ate. 

" Short v,"  said  Si  to  his  comrade  one  da}^,  as  they  stood 
in  the  muddy  trenches,  peering  at  the  circling  line  of  the 
enemy  upon  the  adjacent  hills,  ''durned  ef  I  don't  b'lieve 
we  kin  lick  them  pesky  rebils.  I'd  a  heap  rut  her  try  it 
than  ter  lie  here  starvin'  to  death.  Don't  ye  see  I'm gittin' 
's  thin  's  a  shadder?" 

''I  knowed  it  'd  be  rough  on  ye,  Si,"  replied  Shorty, 
''when  the  ajitant  read  the  order  't  we  was  ter  be  put 
on  half  rations.  I  c  n  git  along  better  'n  you  'cause  I 
alius  was  thin  'n'  it  don't  take  so  much  to  keep  my  steam 
up.  I  reck'n  ye  don't  weigh  quite  's  much  's  jq  did  when 
ye  jined  the  army,  but  ye're  inpurtygood  order  fer  soljerin' 
yet.  Ye  don't  want  only  jest  meat  'nough  ter  keep  yer 
bones  from  tumblin'  apart.  I'm  thinkin'  it  '11  be  wuss  yet 
'fore  long  'f  suthin  don't  happen.  Ye  know  our  cracker- 
line  's  all  cut  off.  I  'low  't  we've  got  ter  do  one  o'  three 
things— make  a  raise  o'  some  fresh  grub,  git  out  o'  this,  er 
fight.  I  'gree  with  ye,  pard,  that  it  'd  be  the  best  way  ter 
pitch  into  them  gray-coats  some  fine  mornin'  'n'  jest 
whale  'em.  I  b'lieve  we  c'n  do  it,  fer  the  way  the  boys  's 
feelin'  these  days  they'd  w^ade  through  a  solid  mile  o' 
rebels.  When  the  gin'ral  gits  'em  started  next  time  ther' 
can't  nothin'  stop  em." 


454 


SI  AND  THE       GIN  RAL. 


Si  was  greatly  edified  and  encouraged  by  Shorty's  obser- 
vations. He  almost  felt  as  though  he  wanted  to  march 
up  to  the  commanding  general  and  tell  him  how  he  felt 
about  it.  He  was  restrained  by  the  thought  that  if  he  did 
he  ^would  probably  be  put  on  extra  duty  for  a  week. 

While  they  were  talking  the  general  and  his  numerous 
staff  in  gorgeous  uniforms,  and  with  an  overpowering  dis- 
play of  epaulets  and  gold  lace,  came  riding  along  the  lines 
on  a  tour  of  inspection.  The  boys  saluted  by  presenting 
arms.    Then  the  general  alighted  from  his  horse,  examined 


CHEERS  FOR  THE  GENERAL. 


the  works,  and  talked  cheerily  to  the  soldiers.  He  was  ev- 
idently in  a  pleasant  frame  of  mind  and  Si  felt  emboldened 
to  speak.  He  always  had  been  somewhat  deficient  in  the 
sentiment  of  reverential  awe  with  which  the  soldiers  were 
wont  to  regard  those  high  in  command. 

**Gin'ral,"  he  said — and  the  smile  on  the  face  of  the  com- 
mander encouraged  him  to  proceed— "ef  ye'll  give  us  a 
chance  one  o'  these  days  'n'  let  us  go  fer  them  fellers  over 
yonder  we'll  warm  their  jackets  fer  'em  so  they  won't  fer- 
git  it  right  away.  The  thing  sort  o'  flashed  'n  the  pan  tht 
last  time,  but  whenever  ye  says  the  word,  Gin'ral,  we'll 


A  REBUKE  FROM  SHORTY.  450 

make  'em  think  the  day  o'  reck'nin'  's  come.  All  the  boys 
feels  that  way." 

'*  That's  the  right  kind  of  talk,  my  boy, "  said  the  general, 
evidently  impressed  with  Si's  earnestness.  "  I  do  not  doubt 
that  you  mean  every  word  of  it  and  that  you  will  do  your 
full  share  the  next  time  we  meet  them ;  and  you  won't 
have  to  wait  a  great  while,  either." 

This  declaration  w^as  received  with  great  enthusiasm. 
A  wave  of  cheers  swept  either  way  along  the  line  until  it 
was  lost  in  the  distance. 

''Ef  I  ain't  presumin'  too  much,  Gin'ral,"  said  Si,  touch- 
ing his  hat  respectfully,  ''I'd  jest  liketer  say  that  the  sooner 
ye  turn  us  loose  the  better  it'll  suit  us ;  'cause  I  c'n  tell  ye 
fer  a  fact  't  we've  got  ter  scare  up  more  grub,  some  way 
er  other.  I  think  it  'd  be  a  good  idee  'f  we  could  trade  off 
some  o'  the  shoulder-straps  n'  brass  buttons  in  this  'ere 
army  fer  hardtack  'n'  sowbelly." 

"I  don't  know  but  you're  about  right!  "said  the  general, 
laughing  heartily  as  he  mounted  his  horse  and  galloped 
away. 

"I'd  expect  ter  be  tied  up  by  the  thumbs  with  a  bay'net 
'n  my  jaws  'f  /  sh'd  talk  ter  the  gin'ral  like  that!"  said 
Shorty,  as  the  staff  went  clattering  down  the  line.  "I 
wouldn't  ha'  da'st  ter  speak  that  way!'' 

''Mebbe  I  did  put  my  foot  in  it,"  said  Si,  "but  I  seen  't 
he  was  good-natered,  'n'  I  thought  's  how  he'd  take  a 
little  joke,  even  f 'm  a  corporil." 

"Ye  wants  ter  be  mighty  keerful  'bout  jokin'  with  the 
gin'rals,  Si,  'cause  it's  ticklish  business.  There's  a  few  on 
em'  't  '11  Stan'  it,  but  four  out  o'  five  'd  have  ye  strung  up 
'n  a  jiffy-  I  don't  say  *t  my  advice  's  wuth  much,  but  'f 
I  v^as  you  I  wouldn't  try  it  on  ag'in!" 

Si  was  a  true  representative  of  the  volunteer  soldier. 
When  he  entered  the  service  he  took  the  oath  wnth  a  mental 
reservation  that  he  would  not,  except  in  so  far  as  he  could 
not  help  himself,  surrender  his  independence  and  his  indi* 


456  ANOTHER  SHRINKAGE. 

viduality.  He  couldn't  help  being  Si  Klegg  in  the  armj 
just  as  much  as  at  home,  subject  only  to  the  laws  of  war 
and  the  "Regulations."  His  thoughts  were  always  active 
and  his  tongue  ready  to  give  them  utterance.  Sometimes 
it  would  have  been  better  had  he  left  things  unsaid ;  but 
his  gallantry  in  battle,  his  faithfulness  in  the  discharge 
of  every  duty,  and  his  general  good  conduct  as  a  soldier, 
fully  atoned  for  his  guileless  violation,  now  and  then,  of 
the  proprieties  of  military  intercourse.  If  a  soldier  com- 
mitted a  flagrant  offense  it  could  not  be  condoned  without 
an  entire  subversion  of  disciiDline,  so  indispensable  to  the 
efficiency  of  an  army;  but  his  minor  peccadilloes,  not 
prompted  by  vicious  motives,  were  overshadowed,  in  the 
eyes  of  most  officers,  by  exemplary  conduct  in  battle. 

The  days  and  weeks  wore  slowly  away  to  the  soldier?* 
of  the  beleaguered  army.  The  subsistence  of  men  and 
animals  became  a  question  of  the  gravest  import.  The 
enemy  clung  tenaciously  to  the  railroad,  and  no  trains 
could  pass  the  frowning  batteries  and  the  phalanx  of 
gleaming  muskets.  Desperate  efforts  were  made  to  reach 
the  army  with  supplies  by  means  of  wagons  over  the 
mountains,  for  the  rear  was  yet  open,  but  the  enemy's 
cavalry  swarmed  in  the  passes,  and  few  of  the  vehicles 
reached  the  famishing  soldiers.  A  large  part  of  the  rations 
thus  sent  only  served  to  replenish  Confederate  haversacks. 

Si's  heart  sank  to  a  point  a  few  degrees  lower  than  it 
had  ever  before  reached,  when  an  order  was  read  one  day 
directing  that  the  troops  be  put  upon  quarter  rations. 
The  general  in  issuing  the  order  sought  to  mitigate  its 
severity  by  expressing  his  regret  that  such  a  measure  had 
been  found  necessary.  He  exhorted  the  soldiers  to  bear 
their  trials  with  fortitude,  and  assured  them  that  relief 
was  near  at  hand. 

"That  kind  o'  talk  's  all  well  'nuff,"  said  Si,  when  he 
and  Shorty  were  condoling  together  over  the  hard  times 
indeed  that  had  fallen  to  their  lot.     "  Of  course  the  gin'ral 


IN  THE   DUMPS. 


457 


had  ter  say  suthin,  but  it  don't  go  very  fur  tor'd  fillin'  up 
a  stomach  't  hain't  got  nothin'  in  it.  I  don't  Hke  ter  think 
o'  peterin'  out,  Shorty,  but  it  kind  o' looks  that  way.  I've 
been  runnin'  down  ever  since  they  c.ut  our  rations  in  two, 
'n'  now  they've  quartered  'em  I  reck'n  I'll  go  on  a  gallop." 
"Ye  mustn't  git  down  in  the  mouth,  Si,'  replied  his 
faithful  companion.  ''It's  tough,  but  we're  goin'  ter  pull 
out  o'  this  pinch.  Ye've  alius  kep'  yerself  braced  up  so 
well  't  I  don't  b'lieve  ye'll  weaken  now.  Every  bod}^  has 
their  dark  da\^s  once  'n  a  while,  out  o'  the  army  's  well  's 
in  it.  It  does  seem  's  though  the  soljers  gits  more  'n  their 
sheer  on  'em,  but  there's  nothin'  like  keepin'  up  yer  nerve. 
Spit  on  yer  hands,  Si, 


'n'  take  a  fresh  grip." 

''  Don't  ye  be  afeard 
o'  my  peggin'  out. 
Shorty.  Ye  know  I 
ain't  in  arnest  when  I 
talk  that  way.  I  can't 
help  gittin'  the  blues 
sometimes,  but  I  nevei 
lets  'em  hang  on  long. 
I'm  goin'  ter  keep  knock- 
in'  'round  jest 's  long  's 
I  kin,  'n'  'f  it  comes  to 
the  wust,  'n'  I  can't  do  no  more,  they  c'n  set  me  up  fer  a 
dummy  ter  scare  the  Johnnies.  I've  heerd  'bout  dummies 
'n'  wooden  cannons  't  was  jest 's  good  's  the  reel  thing  's 
long  's  t'other  fellers  didn't  know  they  vv^as  a  fraud." 

Still  the  days  and  nights  dragged  on.  Hunger,  grim  and 
gaunt,  began  to  leave  its  marks  upon  the  faces  of  the  sol- 
diers. Their  hollow  eyes  and  shrunken  cheeks  attested 
the  gradual  impairment  of  their  bodily  strength.  Men 
cannot  long  maintain  their  wonted  vigor  on  quarter 
rations.  There  was  no  abatement  of  the  duty  that  the 
emergency  required.    By  day  the  troops  filled  the  trenches, 


CONDOLENCE. 


4^58  TAKING    THOUGHT  FOR  THE  MORROW. 

and  b}'  night  a  thousand  sleepless  eyes  watched  at  every 
point  the  flushed  and  vigilant  foe.  Very,  ver^^  long  were 
those  midnight  hours,  midst  storm  and  darkness,  on  the 
dreary  outposts  and  a^ong  the  well-trodden  beats  around 
the  inner  lines. 

Ye  who  around  peaceful  firesides  enjoy  the  fruits  of  that 
four  3^ears'  struggle  know  little  of  the  fearful  cost ! 

The  dauntless  spirit  of  the  army  was  unbroken.  No 
word  of  complaint  was  heard.  When  privation  and  hard- 
ship were  unavoidable  the  sound  of  murmuring  was  hushed. 
It  was  when  things  might  have  been  better,  and  the  hard 
lot  of  the  soldiers  was  made  harder  still  by  ignorance  or 
mismanagement,  that  grumbling  and  cursing  went  up  in 
loud  and  discordant  chorus. 

It  was  a  wise  order  that  the  general  issued  when  he 
directed  that  the  attenuated  rations  should  be  issued  daily . 
If  issued  once  in  three  days,  as  was  the  usual  custom,  there 
were  few  who  would  not,  impelled  by  the  cravings  of 
hunger,  consume  their  scanty  allowance  by  the  end  of  the 
first  or  second  day,  and  have  absolutely  nothing  until  the 
next  issue. 

It  will  not  be  difficult  to  understand  the  value  of  this 
system  in  such  cases  as  that  of  Si  Klegg.  As  long  as  he 
had  anything  in  his  haversack  he  could  not  help  eating  it. 
Up  to  this  time  he  and  Shorty  had  continued  to  ''pool" 
their  supplies,  and  eat  their  scanty  meals  together,  out  of 
the  common  stock.  It  was  no  doubt  true  that  this  ar- 
rangement was  more  advantageous  to  Si  than  to  his 
comrade.  He  did  not  intend  to  eat  more  than  his  share, 
but  such  was  the  fact.  When  in  the  enjoyment  of  Uncle 
Sam's  full  bounty  of  hardtack  and  its  concomitants  it 
made  no  difference,  as  there  was  enough ;  but  at  this  time 
the  question  of  equity  was  a  serious  one,  that  could  not 
well  be  ignored.  Si  was  conscious  of  his  weakness,  and 
that  he  might  not  defraud  his  comrade  he  proposed  that 
until  the  **  cracker  line"  was  opened  again  each  should  take 


A   PINCHING   TIME.  459 

his  own  pittance  for  himself.  Shorty  demurred,  in  the 
kindness  of  his  heart,  but  Si  insisted  that  it  should  be  so, 
and  so  it  was. 

The  same  plan  w^as  generally  adopted  among  the  sol- 
diers. For  the  time  *' messes"  were  almost  unknown. 
The  orderly  divided  the  rations />ro  rata,  by  careful  meas- 
urement, to  the  various  squads,  and  they  were  again  ap- 
portioned to  each  man.  The  few^  crackers  were  evenly 
distributed;  the  meat  was  cut  into  little  blocks  with 
mathematical  precision;  sugar  and  rice\vere  doled  out 
with  spoons ;  coffee,  most  precious  of  all,  became  so  scarce, 
and  the  rations  so  small,  that  the  grains  were  scrupulously 
counted  off  to  each  man,  that  he  might  receive  his  full 
share.  Much  of  the  hardtack  was  mouldy  or  w^orm-eaten ; 
and  the  rancid  bacon  was  bored  through  and  through 
with  maggots  that,  to  the  last  moment,  disputed  the  claim 
of  the  soldier  to  the  repulsive  morsel  from  which,  under 
other  circumstances,  his  stomach  would  have  revolted. 

Every  thing  within  the  lines  that  could  eke  out  the  stinted 
fare  had  long  since  disappeared.  In  front  w^ere  the  bristling 
battalions  of  the  enemy.  The  barren  hills  in  the  rear, 
separated  from  the  army  by  the  wide  river,  had  been 
scoured  by  the  cavalry  of  both  armies,  and  nothing  in  the 
way  of  forage  for  man  or  beast  remained.  Many  of  the 
animals  died  of  starvation.  Horses  and  mules  on  the 
verge  of  dissolution  were  killed  by  the  desperate  soldiers, 
and  their  almost  meatless  bones  were  boiled  and  scraped 
as  clean  as  if  bleached  by  sun  and  storm.  Kernels  of  corn 
were  picked  from  the  dung-heaps  and  eaten  w^ith  avidity. 
With  magnificent  heroism  the  men  endured  this  crucial  test 
of  their  patriotism  and  fidelity.  Day  and  night  they  went 
through  the  round  of  arduous  duty,  now  and  then  ex- 
changing defiant  shots  with  the  hostile  pickets ;  day  and 
night  hunger  gnawed  more  and  more  fiercely  at  their  vitals; 
day  and  night  they  grew  weaker  and  fainter,  and  longed 
and  prayed  for  relief.     The  hospitals  were  filled  to  over- 


460  GLAD  TIDINGS. 

flowing  witli  those  who  could  no  longer  endure  the  stram. 
Doctors  and  nurses  sought  in  vain  to  relieve  their  suffering. 
It  was  food  they  needed,  and  the  supply  was  all  too  small  to 
restore  those  famished  bodies.  Death  was  busy,  and  every 
day  the  solemn  processions  moved  out  to  the  populous 
city  of  the  dead.  The  scenes  in  that  suffering  army  were 
only  exceeded  by  those  in  the  ghastly  prison  stockades  of 
the  South. 

Si's  strong  constitution  and  indomitable  pluck  carried 
him  through.  He  lost  a  good  many  pounds  of  flesh,  and 
spent  a  large  part  of  his  leisure  time  in  trying  to  figure 
out  how  long  he  would  be  able  to  stand  it,  but  not  once 
did  he  join  the  squad  that  each  morning  responded  to  sick- 
call,  nor  did  he  miss  an  hour's  duty. 

''I've  got  some  bully  news.  Shorty,"  said  Si  one  day. 

"What's  up  now?"  asked  Shorty. 

"I  heerd  'em  say  that  over  yonder  a  few  miles  the  coun- 
try 's  jest  alive  with  soljers  that's  come  down  ter  give  us 
a  lift.  I  don't  know  whar  they's  from,  ner  I  don't  keer, 
but  they're  old  vetVans  'n'  there's  lots  on  'em.  [  reck'n 
we'll  git  some  grub  purty  quick,  'n'  then  won't  we  make 
them  Johnnies  hunt  their  holes  ?" 

Not  for  weeks  had  so  genuine  a  smile  plaj^ed  over  Si's 
wasted  face.  The  v^^elcome  news  had  wrought  him  up  to 
a  high  state  of  excitement  over  the  double  prospect  of  once 
more  having  his  appetite  satisfied,  and  of  getting  another 
opportunity  to  ''go  for"  the  rebels  and  get  even  with 
them  for  cutting  off  his  supplies.  It  would  not  be  easy  to' 
say  which  afforded  him  the  greatest  satisfaction. 

"I  hope  it's  true,"  said  Shorty,  "but  I'll  bet  you  a  day's 
ration  o'  hardtack  that  it's  only  'nother  o'  them  'grape- 
vines.' Ye  know  we've  been  hearin'  that  sort  o'  j^arns 
every  few  days  fer  a  month,  'n'  they  didn't  'mount  t' 
nothin'.  Ye  can't  make  me  b'lieve  it  t'll  I  sees  'em  'th  my 
own  eyes." 

"Grape-vine  dispatches"  was  the  name   given  to  tHe 


WELCOME  TO  THE  LOCOMOTIVE.  461 

wild,  sensational  rumors  that  were  alwa3'S  circulating 
through  the  army.  Tlie}^  grew  rapidly  and  enormously  as 
they  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  and  from  one  regiment 
to  another.  Important  war  news  was  usually  made 
known  to  the  soldiers  through  orders  from  headquarters. 
Even  these  official  bulletins  often  appeared  to  have  been 
written  by  Baron  Munchausen. 

"Thar  goes  some  o'  the  new  chaps,  now,"  said  Si,  as  a 
group  of  healthy  officers  and  orderlies  dashed  by.  "I  kin 
tell  by  their  looks ;  they're 's  fat 's  pigs.  D'ye  s'pose  they'd 
ha'  been  that  way  'f  they'd  been  here  fer  a  month  back 
livin' — er  rather  d\'in' — on  starvation  fare?    No-sir-ee!" 

Short^^was  forced  to  admit  the  plausibility  of  Si's  theory, 
conceding  that  there  might,  after  all,  be  some  foundation 
for  his  exuberance  of  spirit. 

Too-o-o-o-t!  Too-o-o-o-t!  It  was  the  whistle  of  a 
locomotive. 

'*D'3^e  hear  that?  What  'd  I  tell  ye?"  exclaimed  Si,  jump- 
ing to  his  feet,  swinging  his  cap,  and  beginning  to  ye\\ 
with  all  the  strength  he  could  command.  Although  it 
lacked  some  of  the  vigor  of  other  days,  when  haversacks 
were  full,  no  yeW  that  had  ever  before  escaped  his  lips 
seemed  so  to  come  from  the  depths  of  his  inmost  soul. 

"Hoora}^  fer  the  bullgine!  Hip!  Hip!  Hooray  fer  the 
hardtack !  Whoop — Wh-o-o-o-o-oop !  Ki-yi !  Tiger-r-r-r !" 

If  any  one  is  disposed  to  think  that  Si's  tempestuous  en- 
thusiasm was  inappropriate  to  the  occasion,  let  him  with- 
hold his  judgment  until  he  has  ''been  there." 

The  effect  of  that  longed-for  and  prayed-for  whistle 
upon  the  army  was  like  that  of  a  shock  from  a  galvanic 
battery.  In  an  instant  everybody,  from  the  generals  do wn, 
was  yelling  and  shouting  and  cheering.  It  was  as  if  bedlam 
itself  had  been  let  loose  in  all  the  camps.  The  noise  would 
have  drowned  the  screams  of  a  hundred  locomotives.  Men 
danced  and  sang  and  laughed  until  the  tears  streamed: 


462 


A  GOOD  REA»<)N  FOR  YELLING. 


down  their  hunger-pinched  faces.    Si  Klegg  was  no  more 
of  a  lunatic  than  all  the  rest. 

Succor  had  come  at  last.  Large  reinforcements  for  the 
besieged  and  starving  army,  ordered  thither  from  other 
departments,  had  arrived.  These  swiftlj^-moving  columns 
had  brushed  away  the  force  of  the  enemy  that  occupied 
the  railroad,  and  the  "cracker-line"  was  open  once  more. 
Close  upon  their  heels  came  long  trains  of  cars  freighted 
with  food,  clothing,  forage,  and  other  munitions  of  war. 
As  the  cars  rolled  into  the  towm  the  soldiers  yelled  again, 
and  kept  yelling,  until  they  could  yell  no  longer. 

Si  told  Shorty  that 
although  his  most 
pressing  immediate 
need  was  provisions, 
he  hoped  they  had 
not  forgotten  to  bring 
along  plent\^  of  pow- 
der and  lead  so  that 
the  soldiers  might  take 
their  revenge  upon  the 
rebels  who  had  re- 
duced them  to  such 
dire  extremity  and 
gloated  over  their 
v^oe. 


REINFORCEMENTS. 


As  some  of  the  fresh  troops  marched  in,  bearing  aloft 
their  faded  flags,  that  had  been  carried  through  many  a 
storm  of  battle  on  distant  fields,  they  were  greeted  with 
such  shouts  as  do  not  often  fall  upon  the  ear  of  man.  Re- 
sponsive cheers  were  heartily  given  v^hile  banners  waved 
and  hats  wxre  flung  high  in  air. 

It  took  little  time  to  unload  the  cars.  For  this  duty 
details  were  made  from  the  newly-arrived  troops.  Strong 
Jirms  and  willing  hands  quickly  heaped  the  wagons  that 
irere  provided  to  convey  the  boxes  and  barrels  of  supplies 


THEY   HELP  THEMSELVES. 


463 


to  the  camps.  Soldiers  never  worked  with  more  alacrity 
than  when  exerting  themselves  for  the  relief  of  suttering 
comrades.  The  mule-drivers  cracked  their  whips  and 
drove  rapidly  to  the  various  brigades. 

*' Volunteers,  fall  in  to  draw  rations!"  shouted  the 
orderly  of  Company  Q .  The  entire  company  responded,  to 
a  man,  with  another  wild  yell. 


THE   RUSH  FOR  RATIONS. 

For  once  red-tape  was  thrown  aside,  and  there  was  no 
systematic  ''issue,''  according  to  regulations,  of  so  many 
ounces  per  man.  Squads  from  the  different  regiments 
were  in  waiting,  and  as  the  contents  of  the  wagons  were 
dumped  upon  the  ground  some  seized  boxes  of  hardtack, 
and  ** slabs"  of  bacon,  w^hile  others  knocked  in  the  heads 


464?  J,    'square"  meal. 

of  barreiii,  Ailed  camp-kettles  and  horse-buckets  with 
coffee  and  sugar,  and  away  they  went.  The  cracker  boxes 
were  quickly  '* busted"  and  the  ravenous  soldiers  were 
told  to  help  themselves. 

''Thar!"  exclaimed  Si,  as  he  and  Short^^  flung  down  a 
box  of  hardtack  with  such  force  as  to  break  it  open,  ''them 
rebils  thought  they  had  a  purty  good  hand,  but  we've 
made  '  high,  low,  Jack '  a-ready  'n'  in  a  da}^  er  two  we'll 
give  'em  a  lively  tussle  fer  the  'game.'  We've  jest  got  the 
keerds  ter  do  it  with  now !" 

While  Si  was  indulging  this  patriotic  outburst  he  had 
stuffed  his  pockets  full  of  hardtack  and  slashed  off  a  liberal 
suppl}^  of  bacon.  Shorty  in  the  meantime  had  filled  two 
tin  cans  with  sugar  and  coffee,  and  they  at  once  set  about 
active  preparations  for  the  first  "square  meal  "they  had 
had  in  many  a  da}^  With  a  cracker  and  a  slice  of  raw 
bacon,  from  which  they  took  alternate  mouthfuls,  in  one 
hand,  they  kindled  a  fire  with  pieces  of  the  box,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  had  a  quart  or  two  of  steaming  coffee.  Each 
man  preferred  to  make  his  own,  as  this  could  be  done  so 
much  more  quickly  than  to  boil  a  camp-kettle,  with  a 
supply  for  the  company. 

''Don't  that  coffee  taste  good,  Short^^?"  said  Si,  as  he 
quaffed  the  fragrant  elixir  from  an  old  cup  that  was  black 
with  long  usage.  "An'  them  hardtack,  I  don't  keer  'f 
they  was  baked  B.  C,  they  goes  right  to  the  spot.'' 

Shorty  attended  strictly  to  the  business  in  hand,  leaving 
most  of  the  talking  to  Si,  who  could  talk  and  eat  at  the 
same  time  without  prejudice  to  either.  It  took  a  good 
while  to  fill  the  vacuum  that  had  so  long  existed  under  their 
blouses.  At  length  they  could  eat  no  more.  Si  arose  with 
a  feeling  of  internal  comfort  to  which  he  had  long  been 
a  stranger. 

"Look  at  them  britches,  Shorty,"  he  said,  with  a  broad 
smile  of  satisfaction,  as  he  tenderly  placed  his  hand  where 
his  body  w^as  distended  by  the  large  deposit  of  commissary 


ON  THE  OUTPOSTS.  4d5 

supplies,  *'this  's  the  fust  time  'n  a  month  't  I've  come 
anywheres  nigh  a-filHn'  of  'em.  They've  been  flappin' 
'round  me  's  if  I  was  a  scarecrow  stuck  up  'n  a  cornfield. 
I'd  a-had  ter  take  a  reef  in  'em  'f  the  grub  hadn't  come. 
My  legs  'n'  arms  's  purtythin  'n'l  reck'n  my  face  's  a  leetle 
peaked,  but  'twon't  take  me  long  ter  fill  'em  out  'f  they 
keep  the  cracker-line  open.  I  hain't  had  no  glass  ter  look 
at  myself  latel}^,  'n'  I'm  glad  on  it,  but  I  c'd  feel  the  bones 
stickin'  out." 

There  w^as  feasting  all  through  the  camps.  The  con- 
sumption of  rations  exceeded  an3^thing  that  had  ever 
before  been  known  in  the  history  of  that  army.  Men  on  duty 
were  not  forgotten  by  their  comrades,  who  supplied  them 
liberally  with  food  and  flagons  of  coffee. 

The  next  morning  it  was  Company  Q's  turn  to  go  on 
picket.  With  plenty  of  rations  in  their  haversacks,  the 
men  marched  with  light  step  to  their  posts  of  duty.  Si 
was  stationed  on  the  bank  of  a  stream,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  which  were  the  rebel  pickets.  B\^  tacit  agreement 
a  spirit  of  comity  prevailed  along  the  outposts,  and  the 
sentinels  refrained  from  firing  at  one  another,  so  long  as  no 
active  military  operations  Avere  in  progress.  The  shoot- 
ing of  a  picket  under  such  circumstances  was  barbarous. 
It  could  have  no  possible  effect  upon  the  result  of  a  cam- 
paign, and  was  simply  murder,  without  the  excuse  that 
actual  conflict  gives  to  man  to  kill  his  fellow.  This  prin- 
ciple was  generally  recognized  on  both  sides  during  periods 
of  inaction,  and  rarely  was  it  violated. 

The  two  or  three  men  who  were  with  Si  had  scarcely 
more  than  disposed  themselves  behind  the  little  barricade 
— built  for  a  protection  in  case  the  other  fellows  should 
break  the  implied  contract — when  a  call  from  the  other 
bank  was  heard.* 

•  The  dialog  which  follows,  between  Si  and  the  Confederate,  is  sub- 
stantially the  same  as  the  writer  listened  to  one  day  in  1863.  It  is  as 
nearly  a  reproduction  as  memory  can  recall.    It  illustrates  the  state  of 


€^66 


A  SUSPENSION  OF  HOSTILITIES. 


^'Hello,  Yank!" 

**  Hello,  Johnny !"  responded  Si. 

**I  'low  you-all  ain't  goin'fer  to  shoot  a  feller  this  niornin,' 
ar'ye?" 

*'No,  not 'nless  you  goes  to  pepperin'  us.  Ef  you  begins 
it  ye'd  better  look  out,  fer  we've  got  some  fresh  catridges 
— sure  pop  every  time !" 

**A11  right,  Yank,  that's  a  go.     Lay  down  yer  shootin' 

iron  'n'  come  outen 
yer  hole.  Squat  down 
on  the  bank  'n'  less 
talk  it  over." 

In  such  cases  a  sol- 
dier's word  could  be 
taken  with  s  a  f e  t  y , 
whether  he  wore  the 
blue  or  the  gray.  Si 
was  in  good  spirits, 
and  in  the  humor  for 
a  little  chaffing.  He 
at  once  went  out  and 
sat  down  at  the  edge 
of  the  stream,  which 
was  not  wide,  and  a 
Confederate  soldier, 
unkempt  and  un- 
shaven, clad  in  ''but» 
ternut,"  came  out  on 


^A^^^.. 


"hello,  johnny!"— "hello,  yank!" 


the  other  side.    The  latter  opened  the  interview  : 
''Got  plenty  o'  grub  now,  hain't  ye?" 
^' Bet  yer  life!"  said  Si. 

'*  Been  pinched  right  smart  'long  back,  I  reck'n." 
''Wall,  we  could  ha'  et  more  'f  we'd  had  it,  but  we  mai^^ 

feeling  that  under  such  conditions  existed  between  men  who  at  othcjr 
times  sought  to  take  one  another's  life  in  the  fierce  conflict  of  battle.  ,U 
was  one  of  the  anomalies  of  the  war. 


YANK   AND  JOHNNY.  467 

aged  to  wiggle  through.  I  think  it  was  mighty  mean  of 
3^ou  fellers  ter  cut  our  cracker-line  'n'  keep  it  cut  so  long. 
We  don't  mind  bein'  short  a  day  er  two  once  'n  a  while; 
it  jest  gives  us  a  good  appetite  fer  army  grub.  But  ye 
spread  it  on  most  too  thick  this  time,  pard !" 

"Oh,  it's  all  fair  'n  war,  ye  know;  we-uns  'lowed  ter 
squeeze  you-all  t'll  ye'd  have  ter  cave  in  er  climb  out  o' 
that.  We  had  ye  foul,  'n'  we'd  ha'  done  it  'f  ye  hadn't 
brung  down  them  other  Yanks  to  help  ye  out.  I  heerd  the 
gin'ral  say  myself  't  ye  couldn't  stan'  it  much  longer.  I 
reck'n  it  sort  o'  sickened  him  when  he  heerd  the  ke-yars 
a-tootin'  yistuday.  Some  o'  the  boys  was  sayin'  that  you- 
all  was  gittin'  reinforced  big,  'n*  when  the  whistles  blowed 
we  knowed  the  jig  was  up.  But  all  the  same  we're  goin' 
ter  git  a  twist  on  ye  one  o'  these  days." 

''Don't  be  too  sartln  o'  that,"  said  Si.  ''The  boys  's 
purty  mad  'cause  ye  cut  off  their  s'plies  'n'  ye  hain't  seen 
no  sich  fightin'  yet  'n  this  'ere  war  's  they'll  show  ye  nex' 
time  they  gits  a  hackle  at  ye.  We're  goin'  right  through 
ve." 

"Wall,  now,  'f  I  railly  b'lieved  that  I'd  think  'bout 
startin'  now!  But  say,  don't  you  Yanks  do  a  heap  o' 
blowin'?" 

"Mebbe  we  does,  but  we  alius  gits  thar  arter  a  while. 
Ye  know  that,  yerself.  Ye  don't  do  jest  's  we  want  ye  ter 
sometimes,  but  ye  keeps  backin'  up  all  the  time." 

"We've  only  jest  been  drawin'ye  on.  We've  got  ye  right 
whar  we  want  ye,  now,  'n'  we  ain't  goin'  ter  git  back  no 
furder.  You  put  that  'n  yer  pipe  'n'  smoke  it.  But  I'd 
like  ter  know  what  you-all  come  down  here  ter  fight  us 
fer,  anyway,  'n' tryin' ter  steal  our  niggers.  What  good  '11 
they  do  ye  when  ye  git  'em?" 

"Now,  pard,  ye  can't  git  me  inter  no  argyment  'bout 
that,  'cause  I  ain't  no  politician.  All  I  know  'n'  all  I  want 
ter  know  is,  that  yon  rebels  's  fightin'  agin  the  flag  o' 
yer  country,  'n'  anybody  't  does  that  's  goin'  ter  git  wal- 


468  COMMERCIAL  INTERCOURSE. 

loped  mighty  bad.  Abe  Lincoln  didn't  set  yer  niggers  free 
t'll  arter  he'd  gi'n  ye  fa'r  warnin'.  Ye  mout  a-had  'em 
yet  'f  ye'd  laid  down  yer  arms  'n'  behaved  yerselves.  Now 
ye've  got  ter  take  the  consekences." 

''That's  all  right,  Yank.  You're  on  one  side  'n'  I'm  on 
t'other.  We  both  thinks  we's  right.  Ther'  didn't  nary 
one  on  us  have  anything  ter  do  'th  gittin'  up  this  war. 
Them  as  did  stays  ter  home  'n'  don't  do  no  fightin'  'cept 
with  their  chins.  You  'n'  me  don't  want  ter  have  no  hard 
feelin's*  'cause  we  kaint  help  it.  Our  cussin'  'n'  'discussin' 
don't  'mount  to  nothin',  nohow.  Say,  ye  don't  want  ter 
sling  over  a  hardtack,  do  ye  ?  We  don't  have  none  only 
what  we  gobbles  f  m  you-uns,  'n'  I'm  gittin'  dog-goned 
tired  o'  livin'  on  corn-dodgers!" 

''Wall  I  declar',  Johnny,  ef  ye  hain't  got  more  cheek  'n  a 
mule,  arter  cuttin'  off  our  rations  so  't  we  didn't  git  but 
one  cracker  a  day,  'n'  mouldy  'n'  full  o'  worms  at  that. 
Ef  a  bullet  ever  hits  ye  'n  the  face  't won't  hurt  ye  any. 
The  hide  on  it  's  thicker  'n  a  'noceros.  I  can't  spar'  'em 
very  well  now  'cause  I've  been  empty  fer  a  good  while  'n' 
I  hain't  got  filled  up  yet.  But  ther'  ain't  nothin'  mean 
'bout  me.    What  ye  got  ter  trade  fer  one  ?" 

"Nothin'  but  terbacker.    I'll  throw  ye  a  hunk  o'  that.'* 

"I  don't  chaw!"  said  Si. 

"Ye  don't!  What  kind  of  a  soljer  ar  ye  'n'  don't  chaw 
terbacker?" 

' '  Some  likes  it  'n'  some  don't,  'n'  I  hap'n  ter  be  one  o'  them 
as  don't.  But  ye  may  toss  'er  over ;  my  pard.  Shorty,  he 
chaws  'nuff  fer  both  on  us,  'n'  he'll  be  glad  ter  git  it. 
Terbacker  's  bin  mighty  skeerce,  'n'  he's  been  doin'  some 
tall  growlin'." 

"Look  out,  here  she  comes !" 

The  Confederate  threw  over  a  good-sized  lump  of  "twist," 
and  Si  sent  a  4-inch  hardtack  sailing  through  the  air. 

"I'm  bleeged  ter  ye,  Yank.  If  ye  ever  git  'n  front  o'  my 
gun  I  hope  it'll  miss  fire,  'n'  'f  I  ever  take  ye  pris'ner  I'll 


469 

treat  ye  tip-top.  I'd  like  powerful  bad  ter  have  some  coffee 
'n'  some  salt.  Ye  hain't  got  a  leetle  ye  kin  tie  up  'n  a  rag 
'n'  throw  over,  have  ye?" 

' '  Ton  my  word  I  hain't,  pard,  ner  I  hain't  got  no  rag  less 
I  tear  off  a  piece  o'  my  shirt.  I  guess  ye'U  have  ter  wait 
t'll  some  other  day.  I  reck'n  we'd  better  dry  up  now  er 
the  ossifers  '11  git  after  us.     Good-by,  Johnny." 

^'Good-by,  Yank.'' 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

<iORPORAL  Klegg  Bears  the  Flag  of  the  200th  to  Victory  and  is 

Wounded. 

4  4^1,  are  ye  hungry  fer  'nother  fight?"  asked  Shorty  a 
>^    few  evenings  later,  as  he  sat  by  the  fire,  frying- 
pan  in  hand,  carefully  preparing  a  mess  of  ''lobscouse  "  for 
supper. 

"Wall,"  replied  Si,  ''I  dunno  's  I've  ever  felt 's  though  I 
was  reely  starvin'  fer  a  battle  sence  that  fust  big  one  we 
had.  That  sorter  took  the  edge  off'n  my  appetite  fer 
fightin',  'n'  I  reck'n  it  worked  the  same  way  w4th  most  o* 
the  boys,  'cause  they  don't  say  nothin'  more  'bout  han- 
lierin'  arter.it.  I  heern  more  o'  that  sort  o'  talk  in  one 
liour,  right  away  arter  we  j'ined  the  army,  w^hen  w^e  was 
trampin'  'round  the  country  tryin'  ter  find  the  Johnnies, 
than  I  does  now  in  a  hull  month  o'  Sundays.  Y^e  know 
'tain't  nat'ral  ter  walk  right  up  w^har  ye 're  likely  ter  git 
killed  the  next  minnit.  When  a  feller  's  heerd  the  bullets 
a-buzzin'  'n'  the  shells  a-bustin'  right  smart  fer  once,  he 
can't  very  well  help  feelin'  's  though  he'd  had  'nuff.  Ther' 
don't  nobody  like  ter  have  holes 'n  his  hide  'f  he  c'n  git  out 
of  it.    Ther'  's  a  few  o'  the  boys  't  alius  manages  to  wiggle 


470  SI  AND  HIS 

out  o'  goin'  inter  a  fight,  'n'  I  don't  blame  'em  's  much  's  1 
used  ter,  'cause  I  know  how  I  feels  myself.  Course  I  don't, 
think  s'  much  'bout  it  arter  I'm  in  'n'  gits  purty  w^ell  ex- 
cited, but  I  tell  ye.  Shorty,  every  time  I  begin  ter  hear  them 
pesk3^  things  a-zippin',  I'd  a  heap  ruther  be  hoein'  corn 
'long 'th  dad." 

**I  hain't  never  seen  ye  act  's  though  3'e  felt  that  way,'* 
said  Shorty. 

"It's  the  fust  time  I've  ever  told  3^e  'bout  it,  'n'  I  s'pose 
ye've  alius  thought  I  was  brave 's  a  lion,  but  I  ain't.  When 
we're  goin' inter  a  fight,  seems  'sif  ther'  was  two  Si  Kleggs. 
One  on  'em  w^ants  ter  run  mighty  bad,  'n'  ef  I  sh'd  do  's 
he  says  I'd  more  'n  scoot  out  o'  thar,  every  time.  But  I 
know  we  can't  never  lick  the  rebils  that  way,  'n'  so  I  jest 
says  to  that  other  Si,  'Now  ye've  ^ot  ter  face  the  music, 
'n'  I  won't  have  no  more  o'  yer  w^hite-livered  nonsense. 
Ye  can't  git  out  of  it,  'cause  ef  ye  try  I'll  jest  blow  yer 
brains  out,  ef  ye've  got  an3^'  That  settles  it  'n'  I  don't 
have  no  more  trouble  t'U  the  next  time,  'n'  then  it's  the 
same  thing  over  ag'in.  'Pears  like  I  never  could  make 
toother  feller — I  mean  the  one  't  ain't  me — behave  his- 
self  I  reck'n  't  sometimes  the  wrong  part  's  the  biggest, 
'n'  that's  what's  the  matter  'tha  few  o'  the  boys.  They's 
made  that  \vay  'n'  they  can't  help  it.  Ye  know  how  I 
hates  a  coward — I  mean  one  o'  them  critters  that's  so 
a-purpose,  'cause  he  don't  waj^tterbenothin' else— but  some 
o'  them  as  hain't  got  the  sand  I'm  sorry  fer.  '  The^^  don't 
mean  ter  do  it  but  that  t'other  feller  jest  carries  'em  right 
off.  My  sand'd  ha' run  out  'fore  this 'f  I'dha'7et  it.  There 
was  that  poor  fellow  't  they  court-martialed  and  shot 
t'other  day  fer  flingin'  away  his  gun  'n'  runnin'  in  that 
last  fight.  I  don't  reck'n  ye've  fergot  it —  I  know  I  shan't 
right  away — our  bein'  drawed  up  'n  a  holler  square  while 
the  detail  o'  soljers  riddled  him  'th  bullets.  I  s'pose 
they've  got  ter  have  sich  things  in  w^ar,  but  I  tell  ye  the 
•hootin'  o'  that  boy  'n  cold  blood  w^as  the  hardest  thing 


HOW  SHORTY  LOOKS  AT  IT.  471 

I've  looked  at  sence  I've  been  soljerin'.  I  couldn't  help 
thinkin'  't  might  ha'  been  me,  'f  I'd  weakened  a  leetle  bit 
that  da}'  o'  the  battle.  Pity  they  couldn't  ha'  shot  jest 
that  part  that  made  him  run,  'n'  there  d  been  'nufif  on 
him  left  ter  make  a  fust-rate  soljer.  I'm  glad  he  didn't 
b'long  ter  Company  Q,  'n'  I'm  gladder  yet  't  I  wasn't  one 
o'  them  as  had  ter  shoot  him.  I'd  ruther  fight  rebils  fer  a 
month  hand-runnin'  'n  ter  ha'  done  that.  It'd  be  a  fust- 
rate  notion  'f  they  c'd  diskiver  some  way  ter  tell  them  as 
has  got  sand,  when  they're  'xaminin'  'em  fer  'listin',  and 
then  bounce  all  them  that's  short.  It  'dbe  better 'nwaitin* 
ter  find  out  by  tryin',  after  feedin'  'n'  clothin'  'em  so  long. 
I'm  afeard  it  'd  ha'  been  a  tight  squeak  'th  me  'f  they'd 
had  a  machine  o'  that  kind  the  time  the  doctor  made  me 
peel  myself/' 

''Look  out,  thar,  pard,"  said  Shorty,  *'yeVe  lettin' the 
coffee  bile  over  while  yeVe  a-speechifyin'.  S'posin'  ye  give 
us  a  rest  now  'n'  less  eat  supper.    This  'ere  stuff  's  done." 

"Ye  was  wound  up  fer  keeps,  wa'n't  ye,  Si;  I  thought 
)re'd  never  run  down!"  continued  Shorty,  as  they  filled 
their  cups  with  coffee,  and  made  a  simultaneous  attack 
upon  the  heap  of  *'lobscouse"  which  Shorty  had  emptied 
upon  a  tin  plate  that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  dug  out  of 
the  ruins  of  Babylon.  "I"  didn't  s'pose  ye  had  s'  much 
phlos'phy  inside  3'er  clothes.  Lemme  tell  ye,  Si,  'tain't 
nothin'  agin  a  man  ter  be  afeard,  pervidin'  he  don't  let  it 
git  away  with  him.  That's  the  kind  of  a  man  you  be,  'n' 
I  tries  hard  ter  be  that  v/ay  myself.  'Cordin'  ter  my  no- 
tion it's  a  brave  man  't  knows  how  unhealthy  'tis  'mong 
the  bullets  'n'  shells  but  has  got  the  spunk  ter  go  right  up 
into  *em  when  the  orders  sa^^s  so.  That's  the  kind  o'  men 't 
makes  stayers.  The  gin'rals  goes  'long  'th  the  boys — that 
is  some  on  'em  does — but  I  tell  ye  they  don't  love  them 
whizzin'  things  no  more  'n  3^ou  'n'  me  does.  But 's  I  was 
sayin'  Si,  I  shouldn't  be  s'prised  'f  we  had  abig  scrimmage 
termorrer  er  nex'  day." 


472  TICKLING  THE  ENEMY's  FLANKS. 

*'Well,  I'm  ready!''  said  Si,  with  quiet  soberness. 

It  was  rarely  that  the  men  knew,  save  from  their  own 
intuitions,  when  a  battle  was  about  to  take  place.  Some- 
times a  fight  was  brought  on  suddenly  and  unexpectedly 
even  to  these  in  command.  It  was  no  doubt  best  that  a 
soldier  should  not  know  beforehand  that  he  was  to  engage 
the  enemy.  He  was.  perhaps,  not  always  full^^  prepared 
to  die,  from  a  theological  pomt  of  view,  and  yet  he  must 
be  ready— and  willing — to  meet  death  at  any  moment.  The 
uncertainty  of  life,  even  under  the  most  favorable  condi- 
tions, was  vastly  increased  in  the  arm\\  Looking  back  to 
those  awful  years,  when  companies  and  regiments  were 
almost  annihilated  by  successive  fiery  tempests,  memory 
recalls  with  amazement  the  stoical  indifference  to  which 
the  soldier  schooled  himself  He  came  to  look  unmoved 
upon  the  ghastliest  scenes,  and  in  the  excitement  of  battle 
the  peril  to  his  own  life  was  scarcely  remembered. 

When  deliberate  preparations  were  made  for  battle,  the 
signs  of  the  impending  conflict  were  clear  enough  to  those 
who  kept  eyes  and  ears  open.  Shorty  had  noticed 
thesie  indications  for  a  day  or  two  and  had  readily  formed 
the  opinion  he  expressed  to  Si.  It  proved  to  be  correct; 
nor  had  they  long  to  wait.  Even  while  they  were  talking 
the  Union  forces  were  moving  on  the  extreme  right  and 
left  to  "feel  of  "  the  enemy. 

*' Jest  listen  at  that!"  said  Short\%  as  a  sharp  rattle  of 
musketry  was  heard  in  the  distance,  soon  followed  b}^  the 
booming  of  artillery.  '*  They're  ticklin'  'em  on  the  flanks 
to  stir  'em  up.  You  see  'f  we  don't  git  orders  t'  night  that 
means  business !" 

"We're  goin'  ter  make  them  Johnnies  skedaddle  this 
time,"  said  Si,  as  he  jumped  at  the  sound  of  the  guns  and 
began  to  put  on  his  accouterments.  "  We're  goin'  ter  git 
CYen  with  'em  fer  keepin'  our  haversacks  empty  so  long." 

Moved  by  a  common  impulse  the  men,  without  waiting 


AN  ARMY  SUPERSTITION. 


473 


for  orders,  seized  their  arms  and  fell  into  line,  to  be  ready 
for  whatever  might  happen. 

Si  took  a  "  deck  "  of  cards  from  his  blouse  pocket  and 
gave  them  a  fling,  scattering  them  far  and  near  upon  the 
ground. 

"What  ye  doin'  that  fer ?"  asked  Shorty,  who  had  none 
of  the  sentiment  that  prompted  the  action. 

Indeed,  when  called  upon  to  give  a  reason  Si  was  unable 
to  reply  in  a  manner  satisfactory  even  to  himself,  so  he 
simply  said  he  didn't  know. 

^'If'ye'd  kep'  'em  in 
yer  pocket  'n'  a  bullet 
sh'd  hit  ye  thar  them 
keerds  mout  ha'  saved 
yer  life,"  said  Shorty, 
who  looked  at  the  mat- 
ter in  a  practical  way. 
Even  this  suggestion 
failed  to  impress  Si  and 
he  made  no  attempt  to 
gather  them  up.  He 
told  Shorty  that  they 
were  about  w^om  out, 
anyway,  and  after  the 
fight  was  over  he 
would  buy  a  new  pack 
from  the  sutler.  He  w^as  afraid  his  comrade  would  laugh 
at  him  if  he  should  tell  him  that  he  did  not  want  to  be 
killed  with  cards  in  his  pocket. 

Like  thousands  of  other  good  boys,  Si  did  not  know  the 
diiference  between  an  ace  and  a  ten-spot  when  he  went  to 
the  army.  He  had  never  turned  truant  when  his  father 
set  him  to  digging  potatoes,  by  stealing  away  to  a  neigh- 
bor's bam  and  playing  seven-up  in  the  hay-mow.  He 
never  gambled  in  the  army,  save  when,  only  once,  he  was 
bes:uiled  from  the  path  of  virtue  by  the  seductive  allure- 


A    MISDEAL. 


474  SOLDIERS  WITH  PRESENTIMENTS. 

ments  of  chuck-a-luck ; "  but  he  learned  to  play  cards 
purely  as  a  diversion,  to  while  awa^'  the  tedious  hours. 
On  this  ground  he  satisfied  his  conscience;  yet  he  never 
came  to  consider  a  pack  of  cards  as  a  means  of  grace. 

Si  v^as  not  the  only  soldier  to  whose  mind  the  sound  of 
guns  brought  such  feelings.  Often  the  ground  in  rear  of  a 
line  moving  to  battle  was  as  thickly  strewn  vs-ith  well- 
v^orn  cards  as  if  they  had  snowed  down.  Man}'  of  the 
boys  waited  until  they  were  sure  there  was  going  to  be  a 
fight,  only  flinging  away  their  cards  when  there  was  no 
longer  a  reasonable  doubt  on  that  score.  It  was  a  good 
thing  for  the  sutlers.  After  a  battle,  trade  was  lively  in 
this  article  of  merchandise. 

But  there  was  reallj-  no  occasion  for  Si  to  throw  away 
his  cards  so  soon,  for  the  200th  Indiana  was  not  called 
upon  to  do  anj^  fighting  that  night.  As  darkness  settled 
down  over  the  armies  the  firing  on  the  flanks  ceased.  The 
pickets  were  reinforced  and  doubly  cautioned  to  be  vigi- 
lant. All  through  the  camp  orders  were  given  for  the  men 
to  lie  upon  their  arms.  Muskets  and  accouterments  were 
carefully  inspected,  cartridge-boxes  filled,  and  extra 
rounds  issued  to  each  man.  Haversacks  and  canteens 
were  replenished,  brief  letters  were  hastily  written  to 
far-away  northern  homes,  and  the  army  lay  down  to 
rest. 

There  were  always  some  who  had,  or  thought  thc}^  had, 
presentiments  of  death  just  before  going  into  a  battle,  and 
it  was  their  habit  to  place  money,  watches  and  other 
valuables  in  the  possession  of  comrades  who,  they  seemed 
to  think,  would  be  more  fortunate,  although  in  ever;v"^ 
respect  as  likely  to  fall  as  themselves.  They  did  not  on 
this  account  shrink  from  danger.  Indeed  there  was  no 
more  sublime  courage  than  that  which  carried  a  soldier 
with  unfaltering  step  into  the  enemy's  fire  when  he  believed 
he  was  marching  to  his  death.  It  is  not  probable  that 
those  whose  minds  were  clouded  by  presentiments  Suffered 


WATCHING  FOR  THE  FOE.  4T5 

any  greater  ratio  of  mortality  than  those  who  were  free 
from  such  forebodings.* 

There  was  another  class  the  opposite  of  these,  who  did 
not  believe— at  least  they  said  they  didn't— that  any  mis- 
siles had  been  or  could  be  made  that  would  hit  them.  There 
were  many  times  when  to  be  fully  persuaded  of  this  would 
have  been  extremely  comforting.  The  truth  is,  however, 
that  the  cruel  bullets  of  the  enemy  made  sad  havoc  with 
these  pleasing  hallucinations.  But  when  a  man  was  pos- 
sessed of  this  belief  it  was  easier  for  him  to  be  brave  than 
for  his  comrade  who  was  continually  standing  in  a  ceme- 
tery and  looking  into  an  open  grave. 

Si  Klegg  did  not  belong  to  either  of  these  classes.  His 
mind  was  not  shadowed  by  constant  visions  of  death, 
nor  did  he  ^delude  himself  with  the  belief  that  he  bore  a 
charmed  life.  In  common  with  most  of  the  soldiers,  his 
first  battle  had  given  him  a  full  realization  of  the  danger, 
but  he  was  ever  ready  and  willing  to  meet  it  at  the  call 
of  duty.  It  was  this  spirit  of  entire  self-abnegation 
that  made  a  man  a  soldier,  with  all  that  the  word 
implies. 

Long  before  daylight  the  army  was  up  and  in  line 
of  battle,  standing  at  arms  in  the  trenches.  The  men, 
elbow  to  elbow,  grasped  their  muskets  more  firmly  as  a 
shot  was  heard  now  and  then  on  the  picket  line.  They 
heeded  not  the  damp  and  chilling  air  as  they  peered  with 
eager  qjqs  into  the  darkness,  to  catch  the  first  sign  of  the 
enemy's  possible  approach.    Along  the  lines  of  the  besiegers, 

*  The  writer  was  twice  made  the  custodian  of  the  effects  of  a  comrade 
who  was  always  sure  he  would  be  killed.  The  third  time  he  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  the  writer  would  be  killed,  too,  and  put  his  watch  and 
money  into  the  hands  of  another.  The  latter  was  taken  prisoner  and 
the  valuables  were  "gobbled"  by  his  captors.  After  that  the  comrade 
had  no  more  presentiments  and  acted  as  his  own  treasurer.  He  went 
through  every  battle  in  which  the  regiment  participated  and  was  ao* 
CTcn  touched. 


476  CALCULATING  THE  CHANCES. 

Upon  the  hills  and  ridges,  the  vigilant  foe  was  watching. 
No  fires  gleamed  on  the  crests.  In  the  darkness  and  silence 
the  two  armies  waited  for  the  dawn  that  should  usher  in 
another  bloody  day. 

'^Shorty,"  said  Si  in  a  low  voice,  as  the  first  faint  light 
revealed  the  neighboring  heights,  crowned  with  earth- 
works and  bristling  with  cannon,  *'ef  we  don't  make  them 
fellers  git  off'n  thar  today  I  ain't  no  good  at  guessin'. 
They've  been  a-havin'  things  purty  much  's  they  wanted 
'em  fer  a  while  back,  'n'  now  it's  our  turn.  All  we  wants 
is  fer  the  gin  rals  ter  jest  give  us  a  chance." 

"Well  w^ait  V  see,"  replied  Shorty.  "'Twon't  be  no 
easy  job,  I  c'n  tell  ye,  ter  go  up  them  hills  't  they've  been 
fortifyin'  all  the  time  we've  been  lyin'  here,  'n'  the  Johnnies 
swarmin'  'n  the  works  'n'  pourin'  down  bullets  'n'  grape. 
We'll  try  it  ef  the  gin'ral  says  so,  but  I  hain't  no  longin' 
arter  that  sort  o'  thing.  Ther'  '11  be  a  good  many  on  us  't 
won't  git  ter  the  top ! ' ' 

Si  did  not  answer,  but  stood,  with  serious  face,  looking 
earnestly  toward  the  heights  on  which  lay  the  hostile 
army,  as  if  calculating  the  probable  result  of  a  mighty 
rush  upon  the  foe. 

"Half  an  hour  for  breakfast !" 

The  daylight  had  fully  come,  and  one  wing  of  each  regi- 
ment at  a  time  was  directed  to  retire  a  short  distance  for 
the  morning  meal. 

"Eat  hearty,  boys,"  said  the  orderly  of  Company  Q. 
"Lgoks  like  we'd  got  business  on  hand,  an'  we  may  not 
git  'no ther  chance  'fore  night." 

Hastily,  but  quietly,  coffee  was  made,  and  bacon  toasted 
on  sticks  and  ramrods.  The  men  sat  down  in  little 
groups,  drawing  crackers  from  their  haversacks,  and  with 
keen  appetites  proceeded  to  strengthen  themselves  for  the 
duties  of  the  day. 

"I  wonder  how  many  of  Company  Q  '11  be  makin'  coffee 
tomorrow  mornin' !"  said   one  of  the   boys.     Although 


FOREBODINGS  REBUKED. 


477 


MOthing  was  known  of  the  contemplated  movement  ex- 
cept by  inference,  it  was  well  understood  that  a  great 
battle  was  pending. 

"Now,  pard,  don't  go  ter  talkin'  that  way,"  said  Si, 
'''cause  it  makes  a  feller  feel  kind  o'  streaked,  'n'  't  don't 
do  no  good,  nohow.  Soljers  has  ter  fight  er  they  wouldn't 
be  soljers;  'n'  some  on  'em  has  ter  git  killed.  Like'y 
'nuif  it'll  come  'round  ter  my  turn  today,  but  what's  the 
good  o'  stewin'  'bout  it  ?  Comp'ny  Q  's  goin'  ter  git  thar 
'f  any  on  'em  does, 
'n'  I  calkerlate  to 
be  up  'mong  the 
boys  'nless  suthin 
stops  me.  The 
200th  Injianny 
hain't  done  nothin' 
yet  ter  be  'shamed 
of,  'n'ldon'tb'lieve 
she  \N^ill  when  we 
go  fer  them  raskils 
't  cut  our  cracker- 
line." 

Si's  words  of  cheer 
and  hope  were  not 
without  their  effect, 
and  the  dismal  in- 
quiry suggested  by  breakfast  before  the  fight. 
his  comrade  was  not  pursued. 

Before  they  had  finished  their  breakfast  every  ear  was 
startled  by  the  boom  of  cannon,  with  sharp  successive 
volleys  of  musketry  two  or  three  miles  to  the  right  and 
left.  The  movement  had  begun  simultaneously  on  both 
flanks. 

''Thar  goes  the  music!"  exclaimed  Shorty.  "Cheosc 
yer  pardners  fer  the  dance !" 

"I  jest  hope  we  c'n  make  them  rebils  sashay  ter  the 


478  ''we're  driyin'  'em!" 

rear!"  .said  Si,  as  he  poured  down  the  last  of  his  coffee  and 

seized  his  musket. 
To  the  right  and  left  the  firing  each  moment  grew  heav- 

ier,  telling  that  the  storm  had  burst.    The  men  hurried 

back  to  their  places  at  the  front,  and  stood  with  every 
nerve  and  sense  strained  to  the  utmost.    Nothing  could 

surpass    the   intensity    of   eargemes^    with    which   they 

watched  for  tidings  of  the  conflict. 

*'How  's  it  goin'?"  was  asked  by  a  hundred  voices  of 
an  orderly  who  went  dashing  by. 

"They  say  we're  drivin'  'em  !"  was  the  answer. 
*'I  knowed  it!"  said  Si,  as  he  swung  his  hat  and  joined 
in. the  yelling  that  followed  this  announcement.    Whether 
true  or  not  it  raised  the  spirits  of  the  soldiers  to  a  high 
pitch. 

Si  yelled  and  shouted  whenever  he  saw  or  heard  any- 
thing that  stirred  his  emotions.  He  had  never  before  felt 
so  strong  a  personal  interest  in  any  battle.  Aside  from 
his  devotion  to  his  bleeding  and  distracted  country,  his 
sufferings  from  hunger,  during  the  weary  weeks,  for  which 
the  rebels  were  responsible,  were  to  be  avenged. 

''Now  they're  goin'  fer  'em!"  he  shouted,  when  the 
sharp  firing  indicated  hot  work.  *'  Give  'em  — "  In  his  ex- 
citement Si  came  very  near  uttering  a  word  that  always 
seemed  to  fit  in  such  cases — the  "Revised  Version"  had  not 
yet  softened  it  into  "gehenna"  or  "sheol"— but  remember- 
ing the  teachings  of  his  early  youth  and  switching  off  his 
tongue  just  in  time,  he  only  said:  "Give  'em  Hall  Colum- 
bia!" This  was  patriotic,  and  on  the  whole  satisfactory 
as  an  expression  of  his  feelings. 

Now  the  order  was  passed  along  the  line  to  be  prepared 
for  an  advance  at  a  moment's  notice.  There  was  little  occa- 
sion for  this,  as  every  man  in  that  impatient  army  was 
ready  and  eager  to  go  forward  at  the  word  of  command. 
The  increased  roar  of  artillery  and  the  sharp  rattle  of 
musketry  told  of  fierce  fighting  on  the  flanks.     As  the 


THE  BUGLES  SOUND   "FORWARD."  479 

^direction  of  the  sound  indicated  the  steady  advance  of  the 
Union  forces,  cheer  after  cheer  swept  through  the  compact 
battahons  that  formed  the  center. 

"Look  there,  boys,  quick  !  '  exclaimed  Si,  his  eyes  flash- 
ing with  excitement,  as  he  pointed  to  the  loftiest  height 
that  had  been  long  occupied  by  the  besieging  host. 

In  an  instant  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  point.  The 
scene  was  one  to  make  the  blood  leap  through  a  sol- 
dier's veins.  On  the  summit  could  be  seen  the  smoke  of 
battle  and  the  rebels  giving  way  before  the  victorious 
blue-coats.  Flags  were  dimly  discerned  that  the  soldiers 
knew  were  the  stars  and  stripes.  Forty  thousand  men 
looked  upon  the  glorious  spectacle,  and  forty  thousand 
voices  joined  in  a  shout  of  gladness  that  rolled  in  billows 
along  the  lines,  filling  the  air  with  its  mighty  volume,  and 
echoing  from  the  surrounding  hills. 

Now  is  the  time  for  a  general  advance.  Never  were  sol- 
diers in  fitter  mood  for  deeds  of  supremest  valor. 

A  bugle  sounds  at  army  headquarters.  Through  all  the 
divisions  and  brigades  men  who  have  long  stood  waiting 
for  this  signal  raise  their  bugles  to  their  lips  and  the  shrill 
notes  ring  out  upon  the  air. 

" Forward !"  is  the  word.  It  is  the  only  thought  in  the 
breast  of  every  soldier.  The  men  leap  over  the  works, 
and  the  long  line,  with  flags  waving  and  muskets  flashing 
in  the  sunlight,  moves  steadily  and  grandly  on. 

"  Battalion— Double-quick— March !  "  shouts  the  colonel 
of  the  200th  Indiana.  The  regiment,  in  prompt  obedi- 
ence, advances  rapidly  until  the  proper  distance  is  reached, 
when  it  is  hastily  deployed  into  a  heavy  skirmish-line, 
covering  the  brigade  firont. 

Half  a  mile  away  are  the  enemy's  pickets.  Beyond, 
skirting  the  foot  of  the  range  of  hills,  are  the  rifle-pits, 
behind  which,  with  loaded  muskets,  the  rebels  are  awaiting 
the  onset.  The  high  ridge  is  surmounted  by  works  that 
many  thousands  of  men  have  been  weeks  in  building.    A 


480 


"lie  down!" 


hundred  cannon,  double-shotted,  peer  angrily  through  the 
embrasures.    Behind  them,  swarming  in  the  trenches,  is> 
the  main  body  of  the  Confederate  army. 
''Halt— lie  down!" 

Half  the  distance  to  the  enemy's  pickets  has  been  trav- 
ersed. The  final  disposition  of  the  troops  is  not  fully 
made  and  a  brief  halt  is  necessary.  The  men  of  the  200th 
throw  themselves  flat  upon  the  ground. 

The  bullets  from  the  enemy's  guns  are  already  singing 
through  the  air.    Now  there  are  flashes  of  flame  and  pufis- 

of  smoke  on  the  crest 
of  the  ridge.  The 
rebel  artillery  has 
opened  ^th  omi- 
nous roar.  Shells 
come  screaming 
through  the  air,  and, 
bursting  with  ter- 
rifying crack,  send 
their  ragged  frag- 
ments whizzing 
among  the  pros- 
trate soldiers. 

''Steady,    men,, 
steady!" 

Few  things  that 
ever  fall  to  the  lot 
of  man  are  more 
severely  trying  than  to  lie,  idle  and  helpless,  under  an  artil- 
lery fire.  At  such  a  time  the  stoutest  heart  quails  and  the- 
steadiest  nerves  twinge.  The  inexperienced  reader  may 
think  this  ought  not  so  to  be,  particularly  after  he  is  in- 
formed that  long-range  artillery  firing  rarely  sheds  any 
blood.  But  let  him  not  form  a  theoretical  opinion  as  to^ 
how  soldiers  ought  to  demean  themselves  under  such  cir- 
cumstances.   If  his  life  passes  without  bringing  to  him  am 


HTGGING  THE   GROUND. 


UNCOMFORTABLE  MO:,iENTS.  481 

Opportunity  to  lie  and  quietl}^  enjoy  himself  in  reading  or 
smoking  or  sleeping  while  shells  are  bursting  and  tearing 
up  the  earth  around  him,  let  him  be  satisfied  to  accept  the 
unanimous  verdict  of  those  who  have  learned  from  actual 
experience  and  observation. 

Si  wriggled  uneasily  and  fairly  ground  his  nose  into  the 
dirt  as  the  swiftly-flying  missiles  hurtled  about  him.  When 
one  of  them  struck  uncomfortably  near  and  sprinkled  him 
with  earth,  he  w^as  for  the  moment  on  the  verge  of  demor- 
alization. It  was  not  that  he  was  ''afraid,  "but  he  did  not 
relish  the  idea  of  being  under  fire  without  any  chance  to 
shoot  back. 

"I'd  a  mighty  sight  ruther  go  ahead,"  he  said  to  Shorty, 
"'n'  pitch  inter  them  fellers  than  ter  lay  here  like  a  log 
while  they're  heavin'  their  old  iron  round  so  promisc'us 
like.  I  sh'd  think  they  mout  ha'  got  things  fixed  'fore  we 
started  so  s  w^e  wotildn't  have  ter  stop  arter  we  got  up  in 
range  o'  them  pesky  guns." 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  Si  could  comprehend  all 
these  mysterious  ways.    Such  things  often  happened. 

The  artillery  fire  w^as  not  w- holly  ineffectual.  Some  of 
the  fragments  did  their  ghastly  work,  and  here  and  there 
lay  a  comrade,  mangled,  quivering  and  bleeding — dead  or 
writhing  in  pain. 

A  staff  officer  dashes  up  and  says  that  all  is  ready. 

"Attention— BattaHon!"  shouts  the  colonel  of  the  200th. 
Every  man  springs  to  his  feet,  impatient  for  the  charge. 
•'Men,  I  don't w^ant  you  to  stop  till  ^^ougetthose  rifle-pits. 
Don't  halt  to  fire,  but  jump  right  into  'em  wdth  cold  steel. 
Fix — Bayonets!    Go!" 

Now  the  soldiers  are  themselves  again.  There  is  no 
shrinking  nor  dodging,  though  faster  and  thicker  come  the 
bullets  and  shrieking  shells. 

In  the  onward  rush  the  alignment  of  the  regiment  is 
broken.  The  more  eager  ones  dash  forward,  regardless  of 
company  formations,  intent  only  upon  reaching  the  enemy. 


482 


A  SUCCESSFUL  FLANK  MOVEMENT. 


They  know  that  when  such  a  job  is  in  hand  "  'twere  well 
'twere  done  quickly."  Others  do  not  get  over  the  ground 
quite  so  rapidly.  Perhaps  they  are  not  less  brave  than 
those  who  are  forging  ahead,  but  they  do  not  see  the  use 
of  being  in  such  a  hurry.  Then,  some  men  can  run  faster 
than  others— when  they  w^ant  to. 

Si's  legs  are  nimble  and  he  is  among  the  foremost,  with 
the  faithful  Shorty  at  his  side.  On  they  go  with  flying 
feet,  unmindful  of  the  spiteful  zip  of  bullets  or  the  shells 
that  burst  above  them  Now  and  then  a  comrade  falls, 
but  none  can  stay  to  staunch  his  Vv^ound  or  receive  his  last 
words. 
The  enemy's  pickets  are  powerless  to  check  the  on- 
ward sweep.  Some 
break  for  the  rifle- 
pits,  others  stand 
to  their  posts 
until,  overwhelm- 
ed by  the  tide, 
they  yield  them- 
selves prisoners. 

In    front    of    Si 
and    Shorty    is    a 
fortified    post    oc- 
cupied    by     two 
plucky  rebels  w^ho 
are  determined  to 
hold   the   fort   to 
the  last  extremity.    The  shouts  of  the  charging  troops  are 
answered  with  loud  yells  of  defiance. 
"Flank  'em,  pard,"  says  Shorty. 

Si  dashes  one.  way  and  Shorty  the  other,  and  in  an  in- 
stant their  bayonets  are  at  thebreasts  of  the  little  garrison. 
"S'render,  will  ye?"  yells  Si. 

There  is  no  escape,  and  they  throw  up  their  hands  in 
token  of  submission. 


YIELDING  TO  THE   INEVITABLE. 


FORWARD   TO  THE   CREST.  483 

"Now  you  git  back  ter  the  rear,  lively.  We're  goin'  fer 
some  more  o'  you  fellers  't  cut  off  our  s 'plies.  Come  on, 
Shorty!" 

Away  go  the  ''Johnnies,"  while  Si  and  Shorty  join  the 
grand  sweep  for  the  rifle-pits.  Here  the  struggle  is  short 
but  fierce.  For  a  few  minutes  there  is  a  stubborn  resist- 
ance. The  rushing  tide  flows  over  the  embankment  and 
down  into  the  very  trenches.  Men  plunge  with  their  bay- 
onets and  beat  one  another  with  the  butts  of  their  guns, 
their  voices  mingling  in  wild  yells  and  imprecations  and 
sharp  cries  of  pain. 

Not  long  can  such  a  scene  continue.  The  rebels  abandon 
the  hopeless  contest.  Many  surrender  and  others  fly. 
The  dead  and  wounded — blue  and  gray  —  are  thickly 
mingled. 

There  is  a  brief  halt,  while  all  along  the  line  the  air  re- 
sounds with  the  shouts  of  triumph.  The  objective  point 
of  the  order  to  advance  has  been  reached.  Shall  the  men 
stop  here  ?    There  are  no  orders  to  go  further. 

The  pause  has  given  them  breath,  and  now,  animated 
by  a  single  thought,  the  impetuous  soldiers  again  dash  for- 
ward with  a  yell.  On  they  go,  up  the  steep  side  of  the 
ridge,  in  the  face  of  a  hail-storm  of  bullets  and  canister 
from  the  enemy  on  the  crest.  Can  mortal  man  breast  this 
fiery  tornado  and  live  ? 

Men  fall  by  scores  and  hundreds  before  the  deadly  blast, 
but  still  on  and  up  sweeps  the  audacious  line.  Shells  are 
lighted  by  hand  and  tossed  over  the  works,  to  roll  down 
and  make  havoc  among  the  assailants.  Here  and  there 
the  soldiers  waver,  but  it  is  only  for  an  instant,  and  again 
they  push  for  the  summit. 

How  fares  the  200th  Indiana?  It  has  kept  its  place  at 
the  front,  and  its  fast  melting  ranks  are  far  up  the  rugged 
height.  The  color-bearer  falls  dead.  Another  carries  the 
banner  aloft,  but  in  a  moment  he,  too,  is  shot  down. 

Now  Corporal  Klegg  slings  his  gun  over  his  shoulder  and 


484 


THE  CHARGE  UP  THE  RIDGE. 


THE   VICTORY  WON.  485 

snatches  up  the  blood-stained  staff.  With  a  royal  will  he 
waves  the  flag,  shouts  to  his  comrades  to  follow,  and  fairly 
leaps  toward  the  crest.  A  missile  strikes  his  arm  and  for 
a  moment  there  is  a  keen  sensation  of  pain.  But  he  stops 
not — heeds  it  not. 

The  standard  is  riddled  by  bullets,  but  it  waves  farther 
up  the  hill  than  any  other.  It  will  not  lose  its  place  so 
long  as  Corporal  Klegg  is  able  to  bear  it.  Inspired  by  his 
example,  the  men  of  the  200th  who  have  not  been  stricken 
down  follow  close  after.  Behind  them,  and  far  to  the 
right  and  left,  thousands  of  brave  men  are  crowding 
upward. 

The  200th  reaches  the  top  with  a  loud  shout  as  Si  plants 
its  flag  on  the  rebel  parapet.  The  men  climb  over  in  the 
very  faces  of  the  rebels.  The  latter,  dazed  by  the  au- 
dacity of  the  charge,  are  seized  with  a  panic  and  break 
in  confusion.  It  is  folly  to  fight  against  ipen  who  can  go 
up  that  ridge  in  the  teeth  of  such  a  fire. 

The  day  was  grandly  won.  Prisoners  and  cannon  in 
large  numbers  w^ere  taken.  With  yells  and  shouts  the  men 
pursued  the  fleeing  enemy  until  exhaustion  compelled  them 
to  halt. 

Si  was  rejoiced  that  Shorty  had  not  been  touched. 
They  embraced  each  other  and  tears  of  gladness  flowed 
down  their  cheeks. 

The  colonel  came  up  to  Si,  shook  his  hand  warmly,  and 
complimented  him  in  the  highest  terms  for  his  gallantry. 
"I  am  proud  to  command  such  men,"  he  said.  Noticing 
blood  on  Si's  arm,  the  colonel  asked  him  if  he  was  badly 
hurt. 

''Wall,  I  declar',"  replied  Si,  ''I'd  fergot  all  'bout  that. 
I  felt  it  comin'  up  the  hill,  but  we  was  too  busy  fer  me  ter 
bother  with  it  then.    I  reck'n  'tain't  nothin'  ver^-serus." 

The  clothing  upon  the  arm  was  saturated  with  blood, 
and  a  hasty  examination  showed  a  serious  wound. 

"You've  behaved  like  a  hero,  mv  bov,"  said  the  colonel. 


486  SI  AT  THE  FIELD   HOSPITAL. 

"but  you  must  go  at  once  to  the  hospital  and  have  your 
wound  cared  for." 

Si  had  always  dreaded  the  word  ''hospital,"  but  there 
was  no  choice,  and  he  consented  to  go.  As  he  turned  away 
he  said  to  the  colonel : 

' '  I  rayther  guess  we  got  even  with  them  rebils  for  shuttin' 
off  our  hardtack !  " 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Si  Spends  a  Night  in  the  Field  Hospital  and  Sees  Some  of  thb 
Horrors  of  War. 

SI  Spent  the* night  as  a  patient  in  the  field  hospital. 
When  he  reached  that  place  he  was  met  by  the  sur- 
geon of  the  200th  Indiana  who  had  been  detailed  for  duty 
there.  Everybody  in  the  regiment,  from  colonel  to  mule- 
driver,  knew  Corporal  Klegg. 

''Well,  Si,  they've  winged  3^ou,  too,  have  they?" 

"I  had  ter  take  my  turn  gittin'hit.  I'm  thankful  'tain't 
nowuss."  And  Si  laughed  good-naturedly  as  he  looked  at 
his  arm. 

"Say,  Doc,"  he  continued,  with  that  eas}'  familiarity 
tliat  characterized  his  intercourse  with  high  and  low, 
"this  ain't  nothin'  but  a  scratch.  You  jest  tie  it  up  in  a 
rag  'n'  let  me  go  back  with  the  boys.  That's  a  bully  old 
musket  I've  got,  'n'  if  there's  any  more  fightin'  goin'  on  I 
want  ter  keep  her  blazin'  away.  I'd  like  ter  pay  up  the 
raskils  fer  pluggin'  me." 

"You're  a  good  boy.  Si,"  replied  the  kind-hearted  sur- 
geon, "and  the  200th  Indiana  is  proud  of  you,  but  you 
had  better  take  my  advice  and  lay  up  a  while  for  repairs. 
You  will  come  out  all  right,  but  your  arm  will  be  sorer 


487 

than  you  think.  You  have  been  a  good,  faithful  soldier, 
and  I  guess  we  had  better  send  yo*u  home  for  a  few  days." 
Home !  The  word  touched  a  tender  chord  in  Si's  heart. 
Tears  moistened  his  eyes  in  an  instant,  as  before  them 
came  a  vision  of  that  "dearest  spot  on  earth,"  and 
thoughts  of  father,  mother,  sister  and  the  one  that  made 
his  slippers.  How  many  long  months— years  they  seemed 
^had  passed  since  that  tearful  parting,  the  day  the  com- 
pany left  for  the  war.  His  lips  quivered  and  his  voice 
trembled  as  he  said : 

''I'd  like  ter  be  to  home  fer  a  bit,  more  'n  I  can  tell  ye, 
Doctor.  It  'd  be  almost  's  good  's  goin'  ter  Heaven.  But 
I  don't  like  ter  go  back  on  the  old  rijiment.  Ef  I  knowed 
the  boys  wouldn't  be  doin'  nothin'  while  I  was  gone  I 
wouldn't  keer  so  much,  but  I  shouldn't  never  git  over  it  to 
have  the  200th  Injianny  gittin'  any  more  glory  'n'  me  not 
there  to  do  my  sheer." 

''There's  no  danger  that  you  will  not  do  your  part.  Cor- 
poral. What  we  want  now  is  to  get  your  arm  cured  up. 
You'll  get  well  in  half  the  time  at  home.  And  I  guess  you 
won't  object  to  having  something  good  to  eat  for  a  change. 
You'll  come  back  as  fresh  as  a  pippin." 

During  the  conversation  the  surgeon  had  carefully  cut 
away  the  blood-soaked  garments  and  made  an  examina- 
tion of  the  wound.  It  was  an  ugly  hurt.  The  I'ough, 
cruel  iron  had  torn  away  and  mangled  the  flesh  down  to 
the  bone. 

"I  didn't  know  'twas  so  bad,"  said  Si,  as  he  surveyed 
the  injured  part.  "I  didn't  feel  nothin'  but  a  thump  when 
that  thing  struck  me.  I  reck'n  I  was  a  leetle  excited  'bout 
gittin'  ter  the  top  o'  that  hill  's  soon  's  any  other  feller 
did,  'n'  I  couldn't  think  o'  nothin'  else." 

"I  heard  all  about  how  you  got  there,  "said  the  surgeon. 
*'Now-  don't  let  this  knife  frighten  you.  Si.  That  piece  of 
shell  made  bad  work  and  I'll  have  to  do  a  little  cutting  to 
get  it  in  shape  so  that  it  will  heal." 


488 


DRESSING  THE  WOUND. 


'*  All  right,  Doctor,  slash  awaj ;  onl}'  so  ye  don't  cut  my 
arm  off;  I  can't  spar'  that,  nohow.  I  know  some  o'  the 
boys  has  ter,  but  I'm  goin'  ter  keep  mine  hangin'  to  me 
'slong  's  I  kin.  'Pears  ter  me  it  'd  be  a  great  scheme  'f  they 
c'd  raise  a  crop  o' men  fer  soljers  with  three  or  four  arms'n' 
legs  apiece.  Then  a  feller  mout  let  some  on  'em  go  'n'  have 
'nuff  left  so  he  c'd  git  along.  No,  Doc,  I  don't  want  no 
chloryform  ner  nothin'.  I'll  jest  see 'f  I've  got 's  much  spunk 
's  I  think  I  hev."    And  as  the  surgeon  began  operations 

Si  clenched  his  fists 
and  his  teeth.  The 
surgeon  trimmed  off 
the  ragged  fragments 
of  flesh,  washed  the 
wound  tenderly,  and 
bound  it  up  with 
soothing  remedies. 

''There,  my  boy," 
he  said,  as  he  fastened 
the  bandage,  "that's 
the  best  I  can  do  for 
you  now.  You  are 
in  good  health  and 
spirits,  and  nature 
will  do  wonders  for 
you.  Many  a  poor 
fellow  dies  just  because  he  gets  down  in  the  mouth." 

Who  that  marched  and  fought  and  endured  does  not 
know  that  a  lightsome,  plucky  spirit  was  a  perennial  foun- 
tain of  life  and  health.  Fortunate  indeed  was  he  who  pos- 
sessed it,  and  could  meet  with  cheerfulness  the  privations 
and  dangers  and  sufferings  incident  to  a  soldier's  life. 
Nothing  but  the  piercing  of  a  vital  part  could  kill  such  a 
one.  He  would  fight  off  the  grim  monster  and  recover  from 
frightful  wounds,  while  his  gloomy  and  desponding  com- 
rade, who  had  received  but  a  mere  scratch  in  comparison, 


IN  THE    surgeon's  CARE. 


A   PICTURE  OF  HIDEOUS  WAR.  489 

would  pine  away  and  die.  There  were  those  who  could  be 
cheerful  and  laugh  and  even  jest  while  enduring  unspeak 
able  agony  of  body  and  in  the  immediate  presence  of  death. 
Such  men  were  worth  more  to  their  fellow-sufferers  than 
a  whole  college  of  surgeons.  The  warmth  of  a  few  genial 
natures  would  diffuse  itself  through  a  regiment  while  on 
the  weary  march,  in  fierce  heat  or  drenching  storm  or 
winter's  cold,  or  suffering  for  want  of  food,  and  drive 
away  the  "blues"— the  soldier's  greatest  enemy — from 
hundreds  of  aching  hearts.  Such  a  one  was  Si  Klegg.  His 
droll  ways  and  cheer^^  nature  were  a  well-spring  of  happi- 
ness and  health  to  himself  and  a  perpetual  blessing  to  those 
around  him. 

The  surgeon  arranged  a  sling  in  which  to  carry  the 
w^ounded  arm,  and  Si  began  to  look  about  to  see  if  he 
could  render  assistance  in  alleviating  the  sufferings  of 
others.  He  had  never  before  seen  the  awful  picture  of  war 
presented  by  a  field  hospital  just  after  a  battle. 

The  horrors  of  the  conflict  of  arms,  and  the  deadly  work 
of  hissing  bullet  and  screaming  shell  are  not  realized  by  the 
participant,  when  every  nerve  is  strained  to  its  utmost; 
Avhen  every  thought  and  emotion  is  dominated  hj  the  one 
overmastering  passion  of  the  struggle  for  victory ;  when 
the  eye  looks  only  toward  the  foe,  and  the  ear  hears  not, 
amidst  the  roar  of  musket  and  cannon,  the  cry  of  agony 
and  the  moan  of  expiring  life.  It  is  when  the  calm  succeeds 
the  storm,  and  the  ghastly  harvest  is  garnered  in  the  hos- 
pitals, where,  amidst  the  dead  and  the  dying,  the  probe 
and  knife  and  saw,  plied  by  a  hundred  skillful  hands,  are 
busy  during  all  the  dragging  hours  of  the  night ;  while  on 
every  hand  are  heard  the  screams  and  groans  that  pain 
extorts  from  the  bravest  hearts— it  is  then,  and  then  only, 
that  there  comes  a  full  realization  of  the  hideous  barbarity 
of  war. 

Si's  sympathies  w^ere  deeply  stirred.  His  own  wound 
was  becoming  painful,  but  he  scarcely  felt  it  as  the  stream 


490 


AMONG  THE  WOUNDED. 


of  sympathy  flowed  out  toward  those  whose  wounds  were 
so  much  more  severe  than  his  own.  All  about  him  they  lay, 
on  cots  and  on  the  hard  earth.  The  great  hospital  tents 
were  filled,  and  mangled  and  bleeding  men  covered  the 
ground  without.  Huge  fires  were  burning  at  frequent  in- 
tervals to  aid  the  attendants  in  their  work,  and  to  take 
away  the  chill  from  the  damp  night  air.  The  glare  of  the 
flames  lighted  up  the  dreadful  scene.  The  surgeons  and 
their  a  sistants  moved  about  with  instruments  and  rolls 


—    5:^_^X-.;2_-_ 


THE  FIELD  HOSPITAL. 


of  bandages  and  cordials.  There  were  amputating  tables 
— some  built  of  rough  poles  laid  side  by  side,  the  ends  resting 
upon  cross-pieces  supported  by  forked  sticks  driven  firmly 
into  the  ground — to  which,  one  after  another,  were  borne 
those  whose  limbs  were  so  shattered  by  the  battle's  mis- 
siles that  they  could  not  be  saved.  Around  them  stood 
the  operators,  v^ith  hands  and  arms  bared  and  bloody,  in- 
tent upon  their  horrid  work. 

Here  a  hand  has  been  torn  b}^  a  bullet.     Bone  and  mus- 
cle and   tendon  are  crushed   and  severed.    It  has  pulled 


KXIFE    AND   SAW.  491 

trigger  for  the  last  time.  If  it  could  heal  at  all  it  would 
be  but  ragged  and  shapeless,  and  it  were  better  off.  A 
cloth  saturated  with  chloroform  is  held  to  the  nostrils,  and 
in  a  moment  the  wounded  man  is  unconscious.  There  is  a 
quick  movement  of  knife  and  saw,  the  arteries  are  closed, 
the  skin  is  sewed  over  the  quivering  flesh,  dressings  are 
applied,  and  the  soldier  awakes  to  find  that  he  is  crippled 
forever. 

He  gives  place  to  the  next— a  brave  lad,  pale  and  faint  from 
loss  of  blood.  A  rough  fragment  of  shell  has  crushed  his 
foot,  to  the  ankle,  into  a  shapeless  mass.  There  is  nothing 
to  do  but  to  cut  it  off.  Again  the  chloroform,  the  knife,  the 
saw,  the  needle  and  the  bandages.  Five  minutes  sufhce 
for  the  operation,  and  the  boy  opens  his  eyes  to  find  that 
he  must  hobble  through  life  upon  crutches. 

Here  is  a  man  with  a  shattered  right  arm.  He  pleads 
piteously  with  the  surgeons  to  save  it.  They  tell  him  it  is 
impossible,  and  their  judgment  must  direct.  He  refuses  to 
breathe  the  stupefying  anaesthetic,  and  with  his  other  hand 
he  pushes  away  the  cloth  that  an  attendant  attempts  to 
throw  over  his  face. 

''I  don't  want  none  o'  that!"  he  saj^s.  "I've  got  the 
nerve  to  stand  it,  and  I'd  rather  have  my  eyes  open  and 
see  what's  going  on.    Saw  away,  Doctor,  if  3^ou' ve  got  to !" 

While  the  gleaming  instrumeiits  sever  bone  and  flesh  he 
sings  in  a  clear,  steady  voice, 

"  Yes,  we'll  rally  'round  the  flag,  boys,  rally  once  again  I" 

Men  who  lie  upon  the  ground  writhing  with  pain, 
wounded  even  unto  death,  catch  the  spirit  of  the  brave  suf- 
ferer. Here  one  joins  in  the  song  with  tremulous  voice;  there 
another  greets  with  a  feeble  huzza  the  cheerful,  patriotic 
sacrifice.  The  surgeons  are  accustomed  to  scenes  of  suf- 
fering and  death,  but  their  hearts  are  touched  and  their 
eyes  moisten.    In  a  few  minutes  only  a  stump  remains. 

Here  comes  one  borne  upon  a  blanket.  Handle  hirix 
tenderly !    A  bullet  has  plowed  its  cruel  way  through  his 


492 


THE  GHASTLY  WORK   GOES  ON. 


thigh.  It  is  a  desperate  case.  Amputations  so  near  tbt 
body  are  accompanied  with  extreme  danger.  He  is  an 
officer,  who  fell  at  the  head  of  his  company  as  he  led  his 
brave  men  over  the  crest  of  the  ridge.  The  surgeons  hold 
a  hurried  consultation.  The  bone  of  the  limb  has  been 
pierced  and  shivered.  The  doctors  shake  their  heads  dubi- 
ously. They  tell  the  patient  that  his  only  chance  of  life 
lies  in  the  knife,  and  that  the  operation  is  likely  to  result 
fatally. 

"There  is  but  one  choice  to  make, "he  says.    ^'Proceed  !" 

Ten  —  fifteen 
—  twenty  min- 
utes, for  the  op- 
eration is  a  seri- 
ous one,  and  he 
is  carried  from 
the  table,  weak 
and  exhausted. 
There  is  little 
hope  that  his 
eyes  will  see  the 
morrow's  sun. 
A  man  with 
one  of  his  legs 
.   UNDER  THE  KNIFE.  crushcd     and 

mangled  is  brought  upon  a  stretcher.  The  overpowering 
pain  has  for  the  time  dethroned  his  reason.  He  utters  pierc- 
ing shrieks  and  yells,  and  resists  with  mad  fury  those  who 
lift  him  to  the  table.  A  cloth  saturated  with  chloroform 
is  held  over  his  face  and  in  a  moment  he  lies  as  one  dead. 
Quickly  the  knife  and  saw  do  their  work,  a  dash  of  water 
restores  him  to  consciousness,  and  he  is  borne  away  to 
make  room  for  another. 

And  so,  hour  after  hour,  the  ghastly  work  goes  on, 
amidst  screams  and  groans  and  sighs  that  are  wrenched 
from  unwilling  lips.    There  are  men  with  mutilated  Wes 


THE  LENGTHENING  ROW  OF  DEAD.  493 

—an  eye  gone,  an  ear  torn  off,  a  jaw  crushed  to  frag- 
ments. Charging  through  that  leaden  hail,  necks  and 
shoulders  were  torn  by  hissing  balls.  Here  are  men  with 
pierced  lungs— men  through  whose  bodies  in  every  part, 
bullets  have  passed.  Many  of  those  thus  stricken  down 
lie  where  they  fell,  on  the  rugged  side  of  yonder  ridge  or 
beside  the  cannon  that  belched  from  its  summit.  These 
yet  survive  their  awful  wounds.  A  few— here  and  there 
one  among  them— will  recover  in  a  measure,  and  will  live 
through  years  of  suffering,  and  yet  every  moment  in  the 
presence  of  death.  To  the  rest,  upon  whom  the  surgeons 
exhaust  their  skill  in  the  hopeless  effort  to  give  relief,  the 
final  muster-out  will  come  in  a  few  hours  or  days  or  weeks. 

Far  into  the  night  the  wounded  continue  to  arrive  from 
the  battle-field,  borne  upon  stretchers  or  blankets  or  carried 
in  the  succoring  arms  of  their  comrades.  They  are  chilled 
by  the  dews,  and  their  reddened  garments  are  as  if  starched 
by  the  stiffening  blood  that  has  flowed  from  their  wounds. 
One  by  one  they  pass  under  the  hand  of  the  surgeons  and 
are  laid  in  rows  upon  the  ground,  where  the  nurses  can 
serve  them  with  food  and  water  and  remedies  to  allay 
their  pain. 

One  needs  not  to  be  told  to  tread  with  gentle  feet  as  he 
passes  through  the  tents  and  between  the  long  lines  of 
prostrate  forms  without.  Death  is  all  around.  Here, 
there  and  yonder  the  breath  comes  feebly,  and  the  heart 
beats  more  faintly  with  each  passing  moment.  Ever  and 
anon  the  flickering  spark  of  life  goes  out  in  a  breast  that 
a  few  hours  ago  was  bared  to  the  battle-storm.  The  dead 
are  removed  from  among  the  living.  Here  lie  their  pulse- 
less forms,  each  covered  with  a  blanket.  Tomorrow  the 
spade  will  perform  its  sad  office.  A  long  trench  will  be 
dug  and  they  will  be  laid  in,  side  by  side,  without  shroud 
or  coffin,  and  the  earth  will  be  heaped  above  them.  At 
roll-call  their  comrades  will  answer  *'Dead!"  They  have 
maae  the  supreme  sacrifice  for  country's  sake. 


494  A  WELL-KNOWN  VOICE. 

Willing  hearts  and  hands  find  plenty  to  do  in  attending 
to  the  needs  of  the  patient  sufferers.  Men  who  bear  arms 
cannot  be  spared  for  this.  Their  post  of  duty  is  at  the 
front.  Here  is  work  for  the  non-combatants— chaplains, 
musicians,  clerks  and  others.  Their  duty  in  time  of  action 
is  to  bear  the  wounded  from  the  field  and  care  for  their 
wants,  under  the  direction  of  the  surgeons.  Many  of  the 
injured  who  are  not  wholly  disabled  render  such  ser- 
vice asthc}^  can  to  their  more  severely  wounded  comrades. 

One  of  the  most  active  and  efficient  among  these  was 
Corporal  Klegg.  Giving  little  heed  to  his  own  wound, 
hour  after  hour  he  passed  from  one  to  another,  performing 
his  kindly  offices.  There  were  many  from  his  regiment, 
and  to  them  he  naturally  devoted  his  efforts.  His  pleas- 
ant face  and  vv  ords  of  encouragement  brought  cheer  to 
many  a  sad  heart. 

''Hello,  Si!" 

It  was  a  familiar  voice,  that  Si  would  have  recognized 
among  a  thousand.  Turning  quickly  around  he  looked 
into  the  glad  face  of  his  friend  Shorty. 

"I  declar',  old  pard,  I'm  glad  to  see  ye,"  he  exclaimed, 
and  his  manner  left  no  room  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  his 
words.  ''Whar  'd  ye  come  from.  Shorty-?  Seems  's 
though  I  hadn't  seen  ye  fer  a  dog's  age.  Whar's  the  riji- 
ment  at?    Did  ye  have  any  more  fightin'  arter  I  left  ye?" 

"I  kin  answer  yer  questions  better.  Si,  ef  ye'll  fire  'em 
one  't  a  time,  and  not  shoot  off  a  hull  volle}^  of  'em  to 
oncet,"  said  Shorty  with  a  laugh.  "I  s'pose  ye  warn't 
expectin'  ter  see  me,  but  I  couldn't  stan'  it  'thout  findin' 
out  how  bad  ye  was  hurt,  'n'  how  ye  was  gittin'  'long. 
'Tain't  more  'n  a  couple  o'  miles  to  whar  the  rijiment  's 
lyin'.  Ther'  ain't  no  scrimmagin'  goin'  on;  I  reck'n  the 
Johnnies  got  'nuff  today  to  last  'em  over  night.  I 
axed  the  cap'n  'f  I  mout  hunt  ye  up  'n'  he  said  he  didn't 
have  no  'bjections  pervidin'  the  colonel  was  willin'.  I 
made  bold  to  ax  him  'cause  I  knowed  he  alius  had  a  warm. 


A   CALL   FROM   SHORTY, 


495 


side  fer  ye,  'n'  I  didn't  b'lieve  he'd  think  any  less  on  ye  fer 
carryin"  the  flag  o'  the  old  200th  Injianny  up  to  the  top  o' 
that  blazin'  ridge.  Jest  's  soon  's  I  tola  him  what  I 
wanted  he  said  right  away,  the  colonel  did  :  '  Certingl}^, 
my  man,  'n'  when  ye  git  back'  says  he,  'come  straight  ter 
my  tent  'n*  tell  me  how  badly  Corp'ral  Klegg  's  wounded. 
He's  a  brave  fellow,  is  Klegg.'  That's  jest  what  he  said, 
Si.  Then  he  give  me  a  pass 't  he  writ  with  his  own  fingers, 
so  nobody  wouldn't  pick  me  up  fer  a  straggler,  slinkin' 
back  ter  the  rear.  I  had  a  hard  time  findin'  the  right 
place,  but  I  stuck  to  it 
'n'  here  I  am,  yer  most 
'umble  sarvint.  Now 
how's  yer  arm  ?  That's 
the  fust  question    I've 


Sfot  ter  ax  T^on  .^" 

ShortA^'s  tongue  was 
much  like  Si's  in  its 
tendency  to  run  on, 
when  once  it  got  fairly 
started.  By  this  time, 
however.  Si  was  get- 
ting well  wound  up, 
and  was  impatient  for 
his  turn.  He  will  be 
readily  pardoned  for 
the  undisguised  pleas- 
ure with  which  he  had  listened  to  Shorty's  recital  of  what 
the  colonel  said. 

''Ther'  ain't  very  much  the  matter  o'  my  arm.  Shorty," 
he  rephed.  ^'I  tried  's  hard  's  ever  I  could  ter  have  the 
doctor  tie  it  up  'n'  lemme  go  back  ter  the  comp'ny,  but  he 
wouldn't  do  it,  nohow.  He  said  I'd  have  ter  lay  up  fer  a 
while  and  he  guessed  he'd  send  me  hum.  P'r'aps  ye  c'n 
form  some  kind  of  an  idee  how  glad  I'd  be  ter  go,  'n'  yet 
I  tell  ye  I'd  ruther  stay  'long  with  you  n'  the  rest  o'  Com- 


THE  TWO  "PARDS. 


<ft96  "TWO  HEARTS  THAT  BEAT  AS  ONE." 

\janv  Q.  I  don't  want  the  200th  Injianny  ter  do  anything 
*thout  I'm  thar  ter  help  do  it.  Ef  I  do  go,  the  boys  ner  the 
colonel  won't  think  I'm  playin'  off,  will  they,  Shorty? 
Ef  I  thought  they'd  feel  that  way  I  wouldn't  bndge  an 
inch  fer  all  the  doctors  this  side  o'  Texas.'' 

''Course  they  won't,  Si;  ye  needn't  be  noways  'fraid  o' 
that.  They've  seen  ye  stan'  up  to  the  rack  often  'nuff 
ter  know  better  'n  that.  I  'low  ther*  's  lots  on  'em  as 
wishes  their  gizzards  was  as  full  o'  sand  as  yourn.  Ye've 
arned  a  furlough,  'f  anybody  ever  did,  'n'  I'm  glad  ye're 
goin'  ter  git  one.  It'll  be  kind  o'  lonesome  'thout  ye, 
Si,  'n'  I'll  be  watchin'  fer  ye  to  come  back.  I  shan't  take 
no  other  pard  under  m^^  blanket.  That's  jour  place,  'n' 
I'll  keep  bachelor's  hall  t'll  ye  come." 

Si  and  Shorty  were  really  so  delighted  to  see  each  other 
that  for  the  moment  they  gave  no  heed  to  their  surround- ' 
ings.  During  their  conversation  they  had  walked  a  little 
way  from  the  hospital ;  but  what  their  eyes  saw  and  their 
ears  heard  soon  brought  them  to  speak  of  what  was 
around  them. 

**I'm  'fraid  Company  Q  'n'  the  rest  o'  therijimentgot  cut 
up  purty  bad,  didn't  they ?"  asked  Si.  ''Ye  know," he  con- 
tinued, "we  didn't  have  no  time  ter  look  back  'n'  see  who 
er  how  many  o'  the  boys  went  down;  'n'  ye  know  arter 
we'd  got  thar  'n'  the  rebs  was  runnin'  every  which  way, 
the  colonel  jest  made  me  come  back  ter  the  hospital.  A 
good  deal  o'  blood  was  runnin'  out  'n'  made  my  arm  look 
wuss  'n  it  reely  was.  I'm  ever  so  glad  you  didn't  git  hit, 
Shorty." 

"Like  enough  it'll  be  me  next  time,"  replied  his  comrade. 
"I'd  ruther  keep  a  whole  hide,  but  a  feller  can't  expect  to 
be  that  lucky  when  the  bullets  is  flyin'  so  thick.  The 
wonder  is  't  anybody  gits  through  'thout  bein'  's  full  o' 
Holes  's  a  sieve." 

*'It  does  seem  that  way  when  ye  stop  ter  think  'bout  it," 
said  Si,  "but  how  'd  the  rijiment  come  out  ?" 


497 

"The  boys  is  thinned  out  a  good  deal.  The  line  ain't 
more  'n  half 's  long  's  'twas  when  we  started  fer  the  ridge. 
I  'xpect  there 's  a  good  many  lyin'  up  thar  on  the  hill,  fer  we 
hain't  had  no  chance  ter  bury  'em  yet.  I  s'pose  'f  we  don't 
have  ter  fight  some  more  we'll  do  that  in  the  mornin'.  I 
don't  know  all  of  Company  Q  that 's  killed,  but  it  was  a 
heart-breakin'  roll-call  't  we  had  tonight.  Some  o'  the 
wounded  's  here,  ain't  they?" 

*'Yes,  plenty  on  'em,"  said  Si.  '*I  know  3^ou  ain't  so 
chicken-hearted  's  I  am,  but  I  can't  keep  the  tears  f'm 
comin'  in  my  eyes  when  I  see  how  the  poor  bo^'sis  sufferin'. 
Some  on  'em  '11  be  glad  ter  see  ye.  Shorty." 

They  passed  among  the  wounded  men  and  spoke  words 
of  greeting  to  their  comrades.  Short}' had  been  cautioned 
that  he  must  not  be  long  absent  and  felt  that  he  must  re- 
turn to  his  regiment.  It  might  be  called  upon  to  move 
at  any  moment.  Before  leaving  he  asked  the  surgeon 
about  his  comrade's  wound,  telling  him  that  the  colonel 
was  solicitous  about  him. 

**Si  is  a  noble  boy,"  said  the  surgeon. 

*'Yes,"  replied  Shorty,  ''he's  my  pard,  'n'  they  don't 
make  no  better  soldiers  'n  him." 

*'We  all  know  that,"  said  the  doctor.  "You  may  tell 
the  colonel  that  Si  has  a  bad  arm  and  we're  going  to  fur- 
lough him.  He'll  come  back  in  a  few  weeks  as  good  as  ever. 
Do  you  know  that  ever  since  I  dressed  his  wound  and  got 
his  arm  into  a  sling  he  has  been  working  hard  helping  to  take 
care  of  these  poor  fellows  ?" 

"Jest  like  him  !"  said  Shorty. 

The  latter  rejoined  his  comrade  and  told  him  that  he 
must  say  good-by. 

"Now,  Si,"  he  said,  "when  ye  start  back  ye  mus'n't  let 
'em  load  ye  down  as  they  did  t'other  time.  Tell  'em  to 
keep  all  the  good  things  t'll  ye  gits  hum  ter  stay.  I  don't 
•'pose  ther's  anybody  up  thar 't  cares  a  pinch  o' snuff 'bout 


498  "TOM." 

me,  but  'f  ye  sh'd  happen  to  hear  'em  axin,  ye  c'n  tell  'em 
I'm  a  stayer.    Good-by ! ' ' 

"Good-by,  Shorty!  Tell  the  boys  that  I'll  give  a  good  re- 
port of  'em,  'n'  fer  'em  ter  keep  my  place  fer  me,  'cause 
'twon't  be  long  t'll  I'll  want  it." 

Shorty  vanished  in  the  darkness,  and  Si  returned  to  his 
self-imposed  work. 

There  was  one  of  his  boyhood  companions,  a  member  of 
Company  Q,  who  lay  desperately  wounded.  A  bullet  had  en- 
tered his  breast  and  passed  entirely  through  his  body.  The 
surgeon  had  dressed  his  wound,  but  it  was  apparent  that  he 
had  little  expectation  of  being  able  to  do  more  than  afford 
temporary  relief.  When  Si  asked  the  doctor  about  his  com- 
rade, he  shook  his  head  and  told  him  that  there  was  but  one 
chance  in  a  hundred  that  he  would  Vve  beyond  a  few 
hours. 

"We'll  do  all  we  can  for  him,  3i,"said  the  surgeon,  ''but 
there  isn't  much  hope.  If  you  can  cheer  him  up  it  will  do 
him  more  good  than  medicine.'' 

:  Si's  heart  went  out  in  sympathy  for  his  friend.  He  de- 
voted himself  assiduously  to  doing  all  in  his  power  to  re- 
lieve his  suffering.  He  almost  forgot  that  one  of  his  own 
arms  was  lying  helpless  in  a  sling. 

"Cheer  up,  Tom,"  he  said,  as  he  placed  a  canteen  of  fresh 
water  to  his  lips.  "Ther'  ain't  no  use  denyin'  't  ye've  got 
a  bad  hurt,  'n'  if  my  bein'  sorry  fer  ye  'd  do  any  good  ye 
wouldn't  he  long  gittin'  out  o'  this.  Ye  must  keep  yer 
spirits  up;  that'll  do  more  fer  ye  'n  anything  else.  Men 
gits  well  sometimes  after  the  doctors  has  give  'em  up, 
jest  'cause  they  says  they  will.  The  doctor  told  me  ye 
had  a  chance,  'n'  I  want  ter  see  ye  make  the  most  on  it. 
It  was  mighty  hot  up  on  that  ridge,  but  didn't  we  go  fer 
'em?  I  tell  ye  ther*  ain't  nobody  needs  ter  be  'shamed 
'cause  he  b'longs  ter  the  200th  Injianny.  Here,  Tom,  take 
a  sip  o'  this."    And  Si  gave  him  a  spoonful  or  two  of 


"cheer  UP,  comrade!"  499 

brandy  which  the  surgeon  had  left  with  him  for  that  pur- 
pose. 

'*  As  I  was  savin V  he  went  on,  ''ther'  ain't  none  o'  them 
rijiments  any  better  'n  ourn,  ef  some  on  'em  has  been  goin' 
it  longer  'n  we  have.  Ye  mind  how  them  old  soljers  used 
ter  poke  all  sorts  o'  fun  at  us  when  we  fust  come  out? 
Mebbe  ye've  noticed  lately  't  they  don't  do  it  no  more.  I 
reck'n  it's  'cause  we've  showed  'em  't  we've  got  jest  's 
much  grit  's  they  have.  Ye  behaved  like  a  hero  today, 
Tom,  'n'  yer  folks  '11  be  proud  o'  ye  when  they  hears  'bout 
it.  Now  cheer  up,  'n'  ye'll  beat  the  doctors  yet,  'n'  git 
home  to  tell  'em  how  bravely  ye  went  up  that  hill." 

Si  rattled  on  without  expecting  any  reply  or  giving  his 
comrade  any  opportunity  to  talk  if  he  had  wanted  to. 
Tom  lay  with  closed  eyes,  breathing  heavily.  Now  and 
then  a  half-suppressed  groan  escaped  his  lips.  At  length 
he  spoke,  in  feeble  tones.  Si  bent  over  him  to  catch  his 
words. 

"'You're  good  to  me.  Si,"  he  said.  "I  can't  tell  ye— how 
thankful  I  am  to  ye.  It's  the  next  thing  to  havin' — mother 
or—sister.  Seems  to  me  almost  as  if  I— might  have  a 
show  if  they  were  here.  I  feel  as  though  the  touch — of 
their  hands  would  ease  this  awful  pain.  It  hurts  more 
and  more  an'— I'm  gittin'  weaker  all  the  time.  I'm  afeard, 
pard,  I  can't— hold  out  much  longer." 

''I  don't  like  ter  hear  ye  say  that,  Tom,  'cause  I  b'lieve 
ye're  goin'  ter  pull  through.     Ye'll  feel  better  tomorrow." 

^'Tomorrow — ^tomorrow,"  said  Tom  in  a  whisper,  as  if 
his  thoughts  sprang  unbidden  to  his  lips,  ''what— where 
will  I  be?" 

"Tom," said  Si,  "ye  mustn't  talk  that  way.  I  hope  God 
'11  let  you  git  well  fer  the  sake  o'  yer  mother.  It  'd  break 
her  heart  ef  ye  shouldn't.  But  ye'd  better  let  me  do  the 
talkin'  fer  both  on  us.  You  lie  's  quiet  's  ye  kin  'n'  mebbe 
that  pain  won't  be  quite  so  bad.  I  wish  I  c'd  help  ye  b'ar 
it.    You've  got  more  'n  yer  sheer." 


500  THERE  IS  NO  HOPE. 

At  this  moment  one  whose  suffering  had  just  ended  was 
carried  by  to  be  laid  in  the  fast  lengthening  line  of  the  dead. 
Tom  opened  his  eyes  for  an  instant  and  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  body  and  those  w^ho  bore  it  away  wdth  solemn 
tread.  His  eyes  closed  again,  and  an  involuntary  shud- 
der passed  over  him.  Si,  w^ho  was  holding  one  of  his  com- 
rade's hands  in  his,  felt  the  tremor.  He  knew  what  had 
caused  it. 

*'Si,"  said  Tom,  in  a  low  voice  of  unutterable  sadness, 
**you  saw  'em— go  by  just  now— didn't  ye?" 

Si  did  not  reply. 

''They'll  carry  me  out— like  that— an'  it  can't  be— ver^^ 
long.    Perhaps  they'll  have  to— take  me  next !" 

The  surgeon  stopped,  while  making  his  round,  to  see  if 
aught  could  be  done  to  stay  the  hand  of  death.  He  felt 
the  feeble  pulse,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  clammy 
brow.  Si  looked  at  him  inquiringly,  but  the  doctor  shook 
his  head.  There  was  no  need  of  words.  Si  knew^,  as  he 
had  feared,  that  his  friend  would  ere  long  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  pain. 

**Tom,"he  said  gently,  with  a  soft  pressure  upon  the 
hand  that  lay  wnthin  hip  own. 

The  flickering  firelight  played  upon  the  face  of  the  dying 
soldier,  who  looked  full  upon  the  faithful  watcher  as  he 
asked : 

"  Did— the  doctor  say— I  was— any  better?" 

Si  turned  away  his  head,  that  his  comrade  might  not 
see  the  tears  that  dimmed  his  eyes. 

"He  didn't  say  nothin',  Tom!" 

The  wounded  man  summoned  all  his  fast  wasting 
strength  to  communicate  to  his  companion  the  thoughts 
that  had  been  running  through  his  m_ind. 

"I  knew  it — w^ould  be  so,"  he  said.  "I've  felt  it  comin' 
ever  since  they— brought  me  down  from  that  hill  where— 
we  fought  so  hard.  I  hoped  it  mightn't  be  that  way— not 
'cause  I  ain't  willin'  to— give  up  my— my  life  as  so  many 


FAREWELL  MESSAGES.  501 

Others  do  but— for  the  sake  of  them  that  '11  feel  bad  when 
they  hear  I'm — dead.  I'd  rather  have  lived  to  go  back  to 
'em.  But  it's— all  right.  It  may  as  well  be  me — as  any- 
body else.  Most  of  the  boys  has  got — mothers  an'  sisters. 
You'll  get — home  in  a  few  days  an'  I'm  glad  of  it.  I'm 
glad  ye  didn't— git  hit  no  harder  'n  ye  did." 

'*It  'd  make  me  happier  'n  ye  can  think,  Tom,  ef  you 
could  only  go  'long  with  me." 

**It  'd  have  to  be  in  a — coffin,  an'  they  don't  have  any 
coffins  here.  Let  me  talk  for  a  few  minutes,  Si— while  I've 
got  strength,  for  there's  one  or  two  things— I'd  like  to  say 
before  I  go.  You  can  tell  'em  whether  I  done  my  duty  or 
not — how  I  was  lookin'  right  into  the  muzzles  of  the  rebel 
guns  when  that— ball  struck  me.  You  was  right  there, 
too.  An'  be  sure  an'  tell  'em  that— we  drove  the  rebels  off 
that  ridge  an'  captured  the  cannon.  I  b'lieve  it  '11  comfort 
'em  some  to  know — I  wasn't  a  coward.  Here's  my  watch; 
I'd  like  ye  to  take  that  home  an'— give  it  to  father.  I 
haven't  got  anything  good  enough  to  send  to — mother; 
but  here's  some  money  left  from  last  time  we  was  paid  off. 
Give  that  to  her  an'  tell  her— to  buy  a  ring  or  something 
she  can  always  keep.  Y'ou'll  remember  all  I  tell  ye — won't 
ye,  Si?" 

**0f  course— I  will,  Tom — every  word,"  said  Si,  in  bro- 
ken tones,  struggling  with  his  emotions.  *^An'  I'll  tell 
'em—" 

"Wait  a  minute.  Si ;  I  ain't  quite  through  yet.  My  time 
's  short.  I  can't  get  my  breath— much  longer.  I  want 
you  to  take  this  pocket-knife.  It's  all  I've  got  to  give  ye. 
You  deserve  something  better,  but  it  '11  do  to  remember 
— yer  old  comrade  by.  And,  Si,  there's  one  thing  more. 
This— locket  I've  always  wore.  Perhaps  ye've  got  one 
yerself,  an'  if  3^e  have  ye  know  what  a  blessin'  this  has 
been  to  me.  I  don't  need  to  tell  ye  who  gave  it  to  me — the 
day  we  left  home.  You'll  know  as  soon  as  ye  see  the  pic- 
ture in  it.    I  want  you  to  give  it  back  to — to  her,  Si,  an' 


502 


IN  THE  DARK  VALLEY. 


tell  her,  if  ye  think  it's  true,  that  she  needn't  be 'shamed  of 
the  boy  't  carried  it  on  the  march  and— into  the  battle.  I 
see  red  stains  on  it.  You  needn't— rub  'era  off.  Mebbe 
she'd  rather  have  it  that  way,  'cause— it  shows  't  I  was  up 
in  front.  Tell  her  I  was  thinkin'  about  her  at— the  last 
minute,  while  I  was  bein'— mustered  out.  An'  when  ye  git 
well  an'  come  back  to  the  regiment,  Si,  I  want  ye  to— tell 
the  boys  of  Company  Q  good-by  for  me.  Perhaps  some 
of  'em  '11  be  a  bit  sorry  'cause— I  had  to  leave  'em— this 
way.    Tell  the  capt'n— " 

The  effort  to  talk  had  been  too  much. 
There  was  a  spasm  of  pain,  for  the 
pang  had   reached  at   last   the   very 
source  of  life.    The  weary  eyelids  closed 
and  there  was  a  labor- 
ed struggle  for  breath. 
Si  pressed   the  nerve- 
less hand  of  his  com- 
rade and  felt  the  weak- 
ening pulse. 

The  surgeon  passed 

that  way  and  Si  beck- 

'  oned   him.     A  glance 

■  told  him  that  the  end 

was  very  near. 

'  *  CanH  you  do  some- 
DEATH  OF  POOR  TOM.  thing    for   him.    Doc- 

tor?" said  Si,  in  a  low  voice,  choked  with  smothered 
Bobs. 

**I  would  do  it  most  gladly  if  it  were  possible,  but  he  is 
beyond  human  power." 

Once  more,  for  an  instant,  the  eyes  opened,  glowing  with 
a  wild,  strange  light.  In  the  last  moments  the  mind  wan- 
dered. 

**Come  on— boys— right  up — the  ridge  ^there's  our  flag 
—we'll  get — the  guiisl" 


MUSTERED  OUT.  503 

At  the  instant  of  dissolution  there  was  a  flash  of  con- 
sciousness, and  the  quivering  lips  parted. 

**  Good-by— pard !    Good-by— Doctor !" 

Very  still  he  lay,  and  a  restful  look  fell  upon  the  whiten- 
ing face.    The  surgeon's  fingers  touched  the  pulseless  wrist. 

"Poor,  brave  Tom  is  discharged,"  he  said,  as  he  brushed 
a  tear  from  his  eye.  ''You  cannot  do  anything  more  for 
him.  Si." 

By  the  light  of  the  gleaming  fires  they  bore  away  the 
body  and  placed  it  beside  those  lying  cold  and  motionless 
tinder  the  sheltering  trees.  Si  walked  sadly  after — a  solitary 
mourner.  He  tenderly  folded  the  hands  across  the  quiet 
breast,  drew  the  blanket  over  the  face  of  his  dead  friend 
and  pressed  it  gently  around  the  inanimate  form,  as  if  to 
guard  him  from  the  chilling  dews  while  he  slept. 

And  still  went  up  to  heaven  that  agonizing  chorus  of 
moans  and  cries ;  still  moved  about,  hither  and  thither,  the 
ministers  of  relief,  intent  upon  their  work  of  mercy ;  still 
one  and  then  another  was  carried  to  the  place  appointed 
for  the  dead.  Over  all  the  firelight  shed  its  sympathetic 
glow ;  while  above  and  beyond  was  the  deep  darkness  of 
midnight,  as  if  it  would  hide  the  awful  scene  of  suffering 
and  death. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Si  Gets  a  Furlough,  and  is  Surprised  Beyond  Measure  to  Find 
Himself  Famous. 

IT  was  long  after  midnight  when  Corporal  Klegg,  ex- 
hausted with  the  labor  and  excitement  of  the  day  and 
night,  wrapped  a  blanket  around  him  and  lay  down  upon 
the  ground,  in  the  hope  of  getting  needed  rest.  It  was  but 
little  that  he  slept,  however.  He  had  felt  and  seen  and 
heard  enough  to  keep  his  thoughts  occupied  a  lifetime. 
The  scenes  he  had  witnessed  were  yet  vivid  before  his  eyes, 
his  mind  was  busy  recounting  the  incidents  of  battle  and 
hospital,  with  occasional  pictures  of  home  and  friends,  and 
his  nerves  were  yet  strung  to  so  high  a  pitch  that  even  his 
fatigue  was  not  sufficient  to  quiet  them.  His  wounded 
arm  was  becoming  more  and  more  painful,  and  he  was  just 
beginning  to  realize  that  he  was  badly  hurt.  His  resting- 
place  was  under  a  tree  a  short  distance  from  the  hospital, 
whither  he  had  gone  that  his  ears  might  not  be  pained  by 
the  cries  and  moans  of  the  suffering  hundreds.  He  tossed 
about  uneasily,  dozing  fitfully,  and  now  and  then  starting 
up,  affirighted  by  the  distorted  visions  that  disturbed  his 
unquiet  slumber. 

He  was  glad  when  daylight  came.  The  chirping  of  the 
birds  in  the  trees  seemed  a  mockery,  as  he  thought  of  the 
pain  and  v^oe  and  death  that  were  so  near.  He  got  up 
and  went  to  see  how  his  comrades  were  faring.  Several 
more  of  them  had  died,   while  others  were  apparentlv 

504 


WITH  THE  AMBULANCE  TRAIN.  505 

doing  as  well  as  their  wounds  would  permit.  For  each  of 
these  Si  had  a  pleasant  greeting  and  words  of  sympathy 
and  encouragement. 

Early  in  the  day  a  long  train  of  ambulances  drew  up  at 
the  field  hospital,  to  convey  to  the  rear  such  of  the  wounded 
as  could  be  moved.  They  were  to  be  distributed  among 
the  permanent  hospitals,  where  they  could  receive  better 
care  than  was  possible  in  the  field ;  and  the  army  at  the 
front  would  be  relieved  of  the  incumbrance.  As  fast  as 
they  were  able  to  go  large  numbers  of  the  wounded  would 
be  furloughed  to  their  homes,  where  their  recovery  would 
be  much  more  certain  and  rapid. 

The  vehicles  were  soon  loaded  and  started  upon  their 
journey.  Si  said  he  would  take  it  afoot  and  let  some  one 
ride  who  was  less  able  to  walk  than  he.  After  a  farewell 
word  to  those  of  his  comrades  who  remained  behind,  he 
trudged  off  in  rear  of  the  train,  with  a  few  hardtack  in  his 
pocket  to  eat  by  the  way,  and  a  canteen  of  water  at  his 
side.    The  distance  to  be  traveled  was  but  a  few  miles. 

The  surgeon  of  the  200th  Indiana  was  one  of  those  de- 
tailed to  accompany  the  ambulances.  As  he  rode  slowly 
along  he  accosted  Si : 

''I'm  glad  to  see  you  doing  so  nicely.  Corporal.  I  have 
something  to  tell  you  that  I  think  may  please  you.  This 
morning  I  made  application  for  immediate  furloughs  for 
half  a  dozen  of  the  regiment,  and  yours  was  one  of  the 
names.  The  man  I  sent  will  take  the  application  right 
through  brigade,  division  and  corps  headquarters  to  the 
general  commanding  the  army ;  and  if  the  red  tape  doesn't 
get  kinked  anywhere  I  think  you  will  get  your  furlough 
tonight.  If  it  comes  you  can  start  home  as  soon  as  you 
have  a  mind  to." 

"I'm  ever  so  much  'bleeged  to  ye,  Doctor,"  said  Si.  ''As 
I  was  tellin'  ye  last  night,  I'd  a  heap  ruther  stay  by  the 
rijiment  'f  I  c'd  do  any  good,  but  it  looks  's  though  I 
wouldn't  be  wuth  nothin'  ter  handle  a  gun  fer  a  while,  'n* 


506 


VISIONS  OF  HOME  AND  HAPPINESS. 


I  s'pose  I  mout  's  well  git  out  o'  the  way.  'Tain't  'cause  1 
don't  want  ter  go  home,  fer  ther'  never  was  anybody 
gladder  to  go  'n  I'll  be.  D'ye  think  I  c'n  make  a  raise  o' 
some  clothes  when  we  git  ter  town.  These  old  duds  looks 
purty  hard,  'n'  I  don't  like  ter  go  home  lookin'  like  a  scare- 
crow. I  flung  away  my  knapsack,  so  's  I  c'd  git  'long 
faster,  when  we  was  chargin'  up  that  ridge  yisterdy,  'n* 


THE   AMBULANCE   TRAIN. 


I  hain't  got  a  stitch  o'  nothin'  'ceptin'  what  I'm  wearin'. 
I'd  like  ter  look  sort  o'  scrumptious  like." 

''We'll  fix  it  so  that  you  can  draw  a  new  suit,  Si,  and 
send  you  home  in  fine  style.  I'll  just  say  to  you  that  I 
haven't  the  least  doubt  that  you  11  get  the  furlough.  I 
wrote  that  you  were  the  man  that  planted  the  flag  on  the 
works.    The  colonel  of  the  200th  will  give  it  a  good  send- 


SI  GETS  HIS  FURLOUGH.  507 

off,  and  I'll  miss  my  guess  if  the  general  doesn't  set  the 
clerk  to  making  out  the  papers  in  a  hurry." 

Si  had  been  thinking  that  he  ought  to  write  a  letter  to 
his  mother  and  one  to  Annabel.  They  would  know  of  the 
battle  and  be  anxious  to  hear  from  him.  Now  that  there 
was  a  prospect  of  a  furlough  he  thought  it  would  be  a  nice 
thing  to  surprise  them  all.  Should  he  be  so  fortunate  as 
to  start  at  once,  he  would  be  likely  to  reach  home  as  soon 
as  a  letter.  So  he  made  up  his  mind  not  to  send  any 
word  that  he  was  coming. 

Before  the  slowly  moving  train  of  ambulances  reached 
its  destination  a  galloping  horseman  overtook  the  party. 
It  was  an  orderly  bearing  the  furloughs  that  had  been 
asked  for. 

''Here  you  are,  Si,"  said  the  surgeon,  handing  him  one 
of  those  documents  that  a  soldier  so  often  wished  for  but  so 
rarely  got.  ''You  deserve  to  have  a  good  time  and  I  hope 
you  will." 

"Thankee,  Doctor,  "said  Si.  He  could  not  say  more  than 
that.  For  the  first  time  he  knew  that  he  was  going  home. 
Up  to  this  moment  it  had  been  only  a  dim  unreality.  He 
had  so  fully  identified  himself  with  the  200th  Indiana,  and 
so  completely  given  himself  up  to  the  discharge  of  his 
whole  duty  as  a  soldier,  that  he  had  been  perfectly  sin- 
cere in  the  expression  of  his  preference  to  remain  with  the 
regiment.  It  had  been  deemed  best  that  he  should  go,  and 
now  a  flood  of  tender  thoughts  rushed  upon  him.  There 
were  symptoms  that  his  emotions  would  get  the  mastery 
for  the  moment,  and  he  dropped  back  a  little  till  he  should 
recover  his  composure.  As  he  came  to  a  full  realization  of 
the  privilege  he  was  to  enjoy,  a  happiness  filled  his  heart 
that  he  had  not  felt  for  many  a  month. 

When  the  town  was  reached  and  the  wounded  had  been 
temporarily  cared  for,  the  surgeon  made  the  necessary  ar- 
rangements to  enable  Si  to  "draw"  some  clothing,  and 


508  HE  WOULD  NOT  WAIT. 

the  latter  was  soon  arrayed  in  an  entire  new  outfit,  from 
sole  to  crown. 

''I  don't  suppose,"  said  the  doctor  with  a  suggestive 
wink,  ''that  you  care  to  take  your  old  clothes  home,  do 
you?' 

''Not  much!"  said  Si.  "If  mother  sh'd  examine  'em 
with  her  specs  on  she'd  go  crazy.  I'll  jest  burn  'em  up. 
That's  all  they 's  fit  fer." 

Si  learned,  upon  inquiry,  that  a  train  would  leave  that 
evening  and  he  told  the  surgeon  he  believed  he  would  start 
right  off. 

"You  had  better  get  a  good  sleep  and  go  in  the  morn- 
ing," said  the  doctor.  "You  need  the  rest  and  you'll  have 
a  hard  time  of  it  bumping  around  in  those  rough  cars  all 
night." 

"I  won't  mind  that  a  bit,"  replied  Si,  "'s  long  's  I'm 
goin'  to'rd  God's  country.  It  '11  give  me  that  much  more 
time  to  hum.  It's  a  chance  a  feller  don't  have  very  often, 
^n'  I'm  goin'  ter  git  all  ther'  is  in  it." 

The  surgeon  admitted  the  force  of  this  reasoning  and 
made  no  further  objection.  Carefully  dressing  Si's  wound, 
he  gave  him  a  liberal  supply  of  such  things  as  it  was  likely 
to  need  during  the  long  journey.  He  told  him  that  any- 
body would  help  him  whenever  he  wanted  to  change  the 
dressing  of  his  arm.  Then  he  replenished  Si's  haversack 
and  bade  him  a  warm  good-by. 

The  train  was  composed  of  empty  freight  cars  that  had 
come  down  loaded  with  supplies  for  the  army.  The  only 
passengers  were  the  usual  detail  of  guards  and  a  few 
furloughed  men  and  officers  who,  like  Corporal  Klegg, 
v^ere  impatient  to  be  off.  The  severely  wounded  who  had 
come  in  the  ambulances  would  rest  till  the  following  day 
and  then  be  loaded  in  cars  of  the  same  kind  and  sent 
northward. 

Si  and  a  dozen  others,  mostly  wounded  men,  were  as- 
signed to  a  car,  and  by  assisting  one  another  they  man- 


THE  NEWSPAPER  MAN. 


509 


aged,  after  much  effort,  to  clamber  in.  The  car  had  been 
used,  at  no  remote  period,  for  the  transportation  of  cattle, 
and  little  had  been  done  in  the  way  of  disinfection.  An 
over-fastidious  person  might  have  been  disposed  to  grum- 
ble at  such  unsavory  accommodations;  but  Si  Klegg,  with 
a  furlough  in  his  blouse  pocket  and  his  face  turned  home- 
ward, was  as  happy  while  breathing  the  noxious  odors  of 
that  cattle-car  as  if  his  nostrils  were  being  tickled  by  the 
"spicy  breezes  "  that 

"Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle." 
Just  before  the  train 
started,  a  man — whose 
bearing  justified  the  be- 
lief that  he  already  had 
a  title,  in  fee  simple,  to  a 

good  part  of  the  earth, 

and  w^anted  the  rest — 

jumped  into  the  car  and 

bustled  around  among 

the  soldiers.   With  note- 
book and  pencil  in  hand, 

he  took  down  the  name 

and  regiment  of  each, 

and  the  nature  of  his 

wound. 

**  What's  your  name, 

young  fellow  ?"  he  said, 

with  a  patronizing  air. 
**  My  name's  Si  Klegg, 

sir.  "  THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT. 

"What!  Corporal  Si  Klegg,  of  the  200th  Indiana? '' 

" Bet  yer  life  I'm  him." 

"What !  The  man  that  so  grandly  bore  aloft,  amidst  the 
awful  carnage,  the  star-bespangled  emblem  of  liberty  and 
equal  rights  and  planted  it  on  the  ramparts  of  treason, 


510  THE  DISPATCHES  TELL  THE  STORY, 

while  the  roar  and  smoke  of  battle  filled  the  circumam- 
bient air  ? 

''I'd  like  ter  have  ye  say  that  over  ag'in,  Mister,  "  said 
Si.  *'I  can't  understand  yer  hifalutin'  talk.  I'm  Si  Klegg, 
of  the  200th  Injianny,  bein'  as  how  ye  wants  ter  know  so 
bad. " 

"Excuse  my  big  words.  I  haven't  got  fairly  cooled  off 
from  the  excitement  of  yesterday,  and  for  the  moment  I 
thought  I  was  writing  dispatches.  I'm  glad  to  see  you^ 
Corporal.  I've  heard  all  about  you,  but  they  told  me  you 
were  dead.  "  Then  he  said  in  an  undertone  as  if  thinking 
aloud:  "B^^  Jove!  I'll  scoop  the  boys  on  this.  It'll  make 
a  splendid  item! " 

''  Make  a  what,  did  ye  say  ?  "  asked  Si,  wondering  what 
it  all  meant. 

But  he  was  gone.  Si  did  not  know  that  he  was  a  news- 
paper man. 

The  journey  was  tedious,  like  all  southern  railroading 
in  war  times,  but  Si  was  happy  in  knowing  that  every 
revolution  of  the  clattering  wheels  brought  him  nearer  to 
''Injianny"  which  to  him  was  but  another  name  for 
Paradise.  Everywhere  he  found  kind  and  ready  hands  to 
bind  up  his  wound  and  minister  to  his  wants. 

Si  was  amazed  to  find  that  through  the  instrumentality 
of  the  telegraph  and  the  newspapers  his  fame  was  already 
being  spread  abroad .  He  was  wholly  unconscious  of  having 
done  anything  that  was  especiall}^  meritorious,  but  his 
gallant  conduct  at  the  storming  of  the  ridge,  in  bearing 
the  colors  of  the  200th  Indiana  to  the  crest,  had  been 
highly  commended  by  the  officers,  and  had  reached  the 
ears  of  the  reliable  war  correspondents  of  the  excellent 
family  journals.  His  deeds  were  described  in  the  tele- 
graphic dispatches,  so  that  at  the  very  time  he  was  tramp- 
ing along  behind  the  ambulances,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling, 
thousands  of  people  at  the  north  were  reading  about  what 
he  did,  besides  a  good  deal  that  he  didn't  do;  for  the 


AND  si's  fame  is  SPREAD  ABROAD.         511 

average  war  correspondent  was  gifted  with  a  fervid  imag- 
ination that  never  failed  to  supply  all  the  details  when 
authentic  information  was  meager.  It  was  rumored  that 
Corporal  Klegghad  been  wounded,  but  in  the  chaos  at  the 
front  no  one  could  tell  how  severely,  or  whether  he  was 
even  alive  or  not.  So  the  newspaper  men  reported  him  in 
all  the  various  stages  of  mutilation  and  dismemberment. 
Some  of  them  added  to  the  pathos  of  their  narratives  by 
setting  forth  that  he  was  killed  just  after  he  had  planted 
the  flag  on  the  summit. 

At  the  first  city  that  was  reached,  after  the  all-night 
ride,  the  newsboys  swarmed  around  the  train  crj^ng : 

'"Ere's  yer  mornin'  papers!  Latest  news  from  the  big 
battle !  All  'bout  Corp'ral  Si  Klegg !" 

*'  Wha-a-a-t !"  exclaimed  Si,  unconsciously,  as  he  heard  the 
clamor  of  the  oft-repeated  cry.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  to  be 
certain  that  he  w^as  awake,  and  pulled  his  ears  to  assure 
himself  that  they  were  still  there  and  performing  their 
legitimate  functions.  ^Then  turning  to  one  of  his  fellow- 
passengers  he  said : 

*' Who  d'yes'pose  all  this  'ere  fuss 's  'bout  ?  I  hain't  never 
heerd  o'no  other  Corporil  Si  Klegg 'ceptin' me,  but  I  hain't 
done  nothin'  ter  have  the  papers  blowin'  me  up !  I  reck'n 
it's  some  other  feller,  but  I  hope  he  hain't  done  nothin'  ter 
make  me  'shamed  o'  the  name!  I'm  goin'  ter  find  out. 
Here,  you  young  rascal,  gimme  a  paper!"  and  Si  handed 
the  boy  a  10-cent  scrip  in  payment. 

"I  guess  you'll  find  they've  got  you  into  the  papers,  sure 
enough !"  said  the  comrade  to  whom  Si  had  addressed  his 
somewhat  explosive  remarks. 

All  the  chance  occupants  of  the  car  were  entire  strangers 
to  Si  when  he  boarded  the  train  the  night  before.  No  two 
of  them  belonged  to  the  same  regiment.  But  there  \\^as 
not  one  whose  acquaintance  he  had  not  made  before 
midnight. 

Si  found  in  the  paper  a  long  account  of  the  battle  and  a 


512  WORDS  FAILED  HIM. 

liberal  paragraph  devoted  to  ^'Corporal  Si  Klegg,  of  the 
200th  Indiana." 

''Wall,I  swow,"  he  exclaimed,  looking  up  from  the  paper, 
*''f  that  don't  beat  the  Jews.  I'll  make  an  affidavy  that 
ther'  ain't  no  other  Si  Klegg  in  the  200th  Injianny."  And 
then  he  thought:  ''What  'd  mother,  'n'  sister  Marier,  'n' 
Annabel  say  'f  they  sh'd  see  that !" 

The  closing  lines  of  the  paragraph  were  as  follows : 

Our  readers  will  be  pleased  to  learn  that  the  report  that  Corporal  J osiah 
Kle^g  of  the  200th  Indiana  was  killed,  published  inourissueof  yesterdaj% 
proves  to  have  been  a  mistake.  The  gallant  young  soldier  was  severely 
wounded,  but  when  seen  last  night  by  our  able  and  discriminating  corres- 
pondent he  was  as  frisky  as  a  spring  lamb.  Our  special  telegraphic  dis- 
patches convey  the  gratifying  intelligence  that  Corporal  Klegg  was  yester- 
day granted  a  furlough  by  the  general  commanding  the  army,  and  left  last 
night  by  rail  for  his  home  in  Indiana.  He  will  arrive  in  our  city  this- 
morning.  All  our  readers  will  join  us  in  the  hope  that  he  may  "live  long 
and  prosper." 

It  was  not  often  that  Si  was  unable  to  find  some  kind  of 
language  to  express  his  feelings  when  unexpected  things 
happened,  but  this  was  one  of  those  exigencies  when  his 
usual  volubility  of  tongue  failed  him.  He  stared  blankly 
around,  without  uttering  a  word,  to  the  great  enjoyment 
of  his  companions.  He  finally  managed  to  say  that  he 
was  completely  "  kerflummuxed."  It  is  no  doubt  true  that 
the  dictionar^^  from  A  to  Z,  could  not  afford  a  word  more 
suitable  than  this  to  express  his  mental  condition  at  that 
moment. 

Then  he  gave  a  sudden  start  as  athought  flashed  through 
his  mind.  What  if  the  papers  in  the  north  should  pubHsh 
the  report  that  he  was  killed,  and  they  should  see  it ! 

As  soon  as  it  became  known  that  a  train  with  wounded 
had  arrived  from  the  front,  there  came  a  delegation  of  men 
and  women  from  the  Sanitary  Commission,  bringing  gal- 
lons of  hot  coffee  and  baskets  of  sandwiches  and  boiled  eggs 
and  all  manner  of  delicacies.  Some  of  the  ladies  began  at 
once  to  inquire  for  Corporal  Klegg,  whose  name  had  ap-- 


"let  me  kiss  him  for  his  mother!" 


513 


peared  so  conspicuously  in  the  head-lines  of  the  morning 
papers. 

**Here  he  is,"  exclaimed  Si's  traveling  companions.  In 
vain  he  protested  and  shrank  into  a  dark  corner  of  the  car 
as  half  a  dozen  ladies  demanded  that  he  come  forth.  His 
comrades  at  length  surrounded  him  and  forced  him  to  the 
door,  where  he  was  greeted  with  boisterous  enthusiasm. 

*'Just  look  at  him;  he's  only  a  boy!" 

**I'd  like  to  be  his  mother!  Wouldn  tlbeproud  of  him?" 


SI  FINDS  HIMSELF  FAMOUS. 

"I  do  hope  his  folks  didn't  hear  that  awful  story  that 
he  v^as  dead!" 

Si  thought  it  was  about  as  bad  as  being  under  the  fire 
of  the  rebels.  He  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  w^hen  a 
matronly  dame  manifested  a  desire  to  ''kiss  him  for  his 
mother."  It  had  been  a  long  time  since  any  female,  old  or 
young,  had  kissed  him,  either  ''for  his  mother"  or  on  her 
own  account.  Pleasant  as  would  be  the  touch  of  the  soft 
lips  of  woman,  he  gently  but  firmly  declined  the  vicarious 


514  SI  ** interviewed"  by  a  reporter. 

salute.  He  said  he  hoped  to  be  at  home  in  a  day  or  two, 
and  he  had  reason  to  believe  his  mother  would  be  glad  to 
do  it  for  herself. 

It  was  indeed  a  feast  that  Si  and  his  comrades  enjoyed. 
The  daintiest  morsels  were  spread  before  them  with  a  pro- 
fusion that  was  bewildering  to  soldiers  who  had  been  at 
the  front  for  a  year,  living  on  army  rations.  Not  less 
startling  to  the  ladies  must  have  been  the  almost  unlimited 
stowage  capacity  which  the  men  exhibited. 

The  visitors  brought  with  them  various  appliances  for 
the  relief  of  injured  limbs.  There  were  crutches  for  the 
lame,  and  ingenious  devices  to  support  wounded  arms. 
One  of  the  latter  was  given  to  Si,  and  a  most  comfortable 
and  convenient  thing  it  was— a  sort  of  trough  in  which  to 
lay  the  arm,  suspended  by  straps  that  went  around  the 
neck.  These  contrivances  were  freely  bestowed  upon  all 
to  the  nature  of  whose  wounds  they  were  suited. 

The  all-pervading  newspaper  reporter  was  there,  armed 
with  pencil  and  note-book,  to  ' 'interview"  Si  and  "write 
him  up.'''  Si  was  well-nigh  dazed  at  finding  himself  the 
object  of  so  much  attention.  He  could  not  understand 
why  so  gTeat  a  ''fuss,'' as  he  called  it,  was  made  over  him. 
At  first  he  did  not  take  kindly  to  the  newspaper  man. 
The  latter,  however,  by  that  persistence  so  characteristic 
of  the  profession,  at  last  succeeded  in  getting  Si's  tongue 
unloosed,  and  he  rattled  off,  in  his  quaint,  ingenuous  way, 
the  story  of  how  the  flag  of  the  200th  Indiana  came  to  be 
the  first  that  floated  amidst  the  flame  and  smoke  on  the 
crest  of  the  ridge.  He  told  it  in  simple  words,  without  the 
least  attempt  at  self-glorification.  He  was  proud  of  his 
regiment  and  of  himself,  not  as  an  individual,  but  as  one 
of  its  members.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned  he  had  done 
nothing  more  than  what  he  enlisted  to  do,  and  what 
might  be  expected  of  him.  He  did  not  even  ask  the  re- 
porter to  send  him  a  marked  copy  of  the  paper. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Bad  News  Reachei  the  Klegg  Family,  but  it  Proves  to  be  UNTitua. 

FARMER  KLEGG  was  husking  com  when  a  neighbor, 
who  also  had  a  son  in  Company  Q,  came  galloping 
down  the  road  leading  from  the  village.  Tying  his  horse 
to  the  fence  he  climbed  over,  approached  with  rapid  steps, 
and  accosted  him.  The  earnest  tones  with  which  he  spoke 
betokened  the  gravity  of  the  message  he  brought. 

"  Neighbor  Klegg, "  he  said,  ''I  had  to  goto  town  this 
mornin'  to  git  the  old  mare  shod,  an'  I  heerd  they  had 
another  great  battle  yesterday.  I  tried  to  find  out  suthin 
definite  for  I  couldn't  help  feelin'  anxious  'bout  my  Tom. 
All  anybody  knew  was  that  our  men  druv  the  rebils, 
capturin'  a  hull  lot  o'  their  cannons  an'  I  don't  know 
how  many  thousan*  pris  ners.  What  consams  you  an' 
me  most  is  that  the  200th  Indiana  was  in  the  thickest  on 
't  and  was  cut  up  terrible.  I  couldn't  git  no  names  yet 
tellin'  who  's  killed  an'  who  ain't,  but  I  thought  you  an' 
some  o' the  rest  o' the  people  hereabout  would  like  to  know 
there  had  been  a  fight  that  our  boys  was  in,  an'  so  I 
jumped  on  the  hoss  an'  come  on  a  dead  run." 

The  first  glance  into  the  face  of  his  friend  had  told  Farmer 
Klegg  the  serious  character  of  the  hasty  visit.  Dropping 
a  half-husked  ear  he  stood  listening  intently  to  the  start- 
ling words. 

"I  must  go  an'  tell  mother!"  he  said  gently,  and  his  lips 
quivered  as  he  spoke.    "Then  I'll  go  to  town  an'  see  if  I 

515 


516 


STARTLING  NEWS. 


can  hear  any  of  the  particklers.  They  said  the  200th  was 
badly  cut  up,  did  they?"  he  continued,  as  they  walked 
toward  the  road. 

"That's  what  they  told  me,"  replied  his  companion. 

"If  that's  true  a  good  many  of  Company  Q  must  ha' 
got  hurt,  'cause  I  don't  believe  any  on  'em  was  furder  in 
front  than  our  boys.  Ye  know,  neighbor,  it's  most 
always  the  brave  ones  that  gets  hit  'Tain't  them  as  is 
skulkin'  back  in  the 
rear.  If  a  man  is  killed 
or  wounded,  it  stands 
to  reason  that  he  was 
somewheres  'round 
where  he  ought  to  be. 
It  'd  be  purty  hard  to 
see  my  bo^^'s  name  in 
one  o'  the  long  lists  the 
newspapers  print  after 
every  big  battle,  but 
even  that  wouldn't  be 
so  hard  as  to  have  it 
said  that  Si  wa'n'tno 
good.  If  I  only  know 
that  he  done  his  duty  'Ji^t^f; 
like  a  brave  soldier  I'll  »'«^  ^'^ 

tryand-"^     ,  ^^^>abL^* 

The  patriotic  old  man 
left  the  sentence  unfin- 
ished. Something  came  into  his  throat  that  choked  his 
utterance.  He  drew  his  rough  sleeve  across  his  brown 
face. 

"I  agree  with  ye,  Mr.  Klegg,"  said  the  other.  "That's 
jest  the  way  I  feel  about  Tom.  I'd  rather  know  he  was 
dead  than  to  hear  he'd  showed  the  white  feather.  But 
from  all  accounts  wc'a^c  had  I  don't  think  either  on  'em 
MB  a  boy  to  be  'shamed  of." 


NEWS  FOR  FARMER  KLEGO. 


FATHER   AND   MOTHER.  517 

At  the  road  they  shook  hands  and  parted,  with  dimmed 
eyes,  and  voices  tremulous  with  anxiety  and  foreboding 
for  the  absent  ones.  One  turned  his  steps  toward  the 
house  and  the  other  remounted  his  horse  and  rode  awav. 

Farmer  Klegg's  wife  had  seen  the  neighbor  ride  past  at 
furious  pace.  She  had  watched  him  as  he  ahghted  from 
his  horse  and  joined  her  husband  in  the  field.  She  knew, 
with  the  keen  instinct  of  a  mother,  that  something  unusual 
had  transpired,  and  that  it  concerned  her  boy.  She  stood 
in  the  open  door  and  did  not  take  her  eyes  from  them  dur- 
ing the  brief  interview.  The  instant  they  separated  she  drew 
her  apron  over  her  head  and  walked  rapidly  with  beating 
heart  to  meet  her  husband.  His  head  was  bowed  and  he 
was  not  conscious  of  her  approach  until  she  was  near 
him. 

''  Father,"  she  said— and  words  and  tears  came  together 
— ' '  is  it  bad  news  ?    Si  is  not— dead  ? ' ' 

He  opened  his  strong  arms  and  clasped  them  about  his 
wife  as  she  fell,  weeping,  upon  his  breast. 

''There— there— mother!  Don't!"  he  said,  with  the 
utmost  tenderness,  and  with  a  mighty  effort  to  control 
his  own  emotions,  as  he  laid  his  hand  softly  upon  her  fore- 
head and  moistened  cheek.  ''There's  sad  news  for  a  good 
many  people ;  I  pray  the  good  Father  above  that  it  may 
not  prove  so  to  us,  dear.  The  army  that  our  boy  is  in 
has  had  another  battle  and  the  report  is  that  the  200th 
Indiana  was  in  the  thickest  of  it  and  was  badly  cut  up." 

"And— tell  me  quick,"  she  sobbed— and  her  breath  came 
fast  as  she  looked  into  his  face  with  her  tearful  eyes — 
"what  did— he  say — about  our  Si  ?  " 

"Not  a  word,  mother.  I  tell  you  truly."  He  cast  upon 
her  a  look  that  is  only  born  of  the  affection  of  half  a  life- 
time. "I  have  heard  nothing  beyond  what  I  have  told 
you.  We  may  hope  that  all  is  well  with  him,  and  now  we 
will  be  thankful  for  that  privilege.  Cheer  up,  wife;  it  11  all 
come  out  right." 


518  IN  QUEST  OF  TIDINGS. 

The  fact  that  nothing  was  known  as  to  how  Si  had  fared 
in  the  battle  brought  to  the  mother  a  sense  of  rehef. 

"I  will  drive  to  town,"  said  Mr.  Klegg,  *'and  see  if  I  can 
hear  an3rthing  more.  Be  brave  and  patient  till  I  come 
back." 

**Iwill  go  with  you,"  she  answered,  quietly,  *'I  could 
not  endure  it  to  wait  for  you.    And  let  us  go  at  once." 

** Perhaps  it  may  not  turn  out  to  be  so  bad,"  he  said,  as 
they  walked  to  the  house.  *'The  first  reports  are  always 
the  worst." 

**You  know, "said  his  wife,  "there  isn't  hardly  a  minute, 
day  nor  night,  when  I  ain't  thinkin'  or  dreamin'  of  Si. 
I've  never  thought  it  possible  that  anything  could  happen 
to  him.  These  are  times  when  people  have  to  make  sacri- 
fices, but  it  seems  as  if  for  us  to  give  up  our  only  son,  and 
he  so  good  a  boy  as  Si,  is  too  much  for  the  country  to 
ask  of  us." 

**Now,  mother,  get  your  things  on,"  he  said,  as  they 
reached  the  house.  ''I'll  have  the  buggy  ready  in  a  few 
minutes." 

Little  was  said  during  the  drive  to  the  village.  The 
hearts  of  both  were  throbbing  with  anxiety  for  tidings 
from  the  absent  one. 

The  village  was  thronged  with  people  on  like  errands. 
The  news  of  the  battle  had  spread,  as  if  borne  upon  the 
wings  of  the  morning,  through  the  region  round  about,  and 
the  friends  of  Company'  Q  gathered  from  all  directions. 
The  rneri  at  the  front  knew  little  of  the  unutterable  long- 
ings, the  prayers,  the  fears,  the  j^earning  hopes  of  those  at 
home  who  loved  them. 

Farmer  Klegg  thought  it  best  to  leave  his  wife  at  the 
house  of  a  friend,  while  he  hastened  to  the  postoffice  and 
railway  station  in  quest  of  news. 

*' Hurry,"  she  said,  ''and  come  back  to  me  as  soon  as 
you  can,  for  3^ou  know  how  much  I  want  to  hear  from  Si." 

**  You  had  no  need  to  tell  me  that,"  he  replied,  with  an 


THE  GREED  FOR  NEWSPAPERS.  519 

affectionate  look  into  her  face.     ''As  soon  as  I  can  learn 
an3'thing  I  will  come  to  you." 

A  short  time  before  he  arrived  the  morning  papers  from 
a  neighboring  city  had  reached  the  village.  They  were 
seized  with  the  utmost  avidity,  and  the  long  columns  that 
told  of  the  great  victory  were  read  with  an  intensity  of 
interest  that  no  language  can  portray.  It  was  too  soon 
for  the  heart-breaking  lists  of  the  dead  and  the  mangled. 
For  these  the  agony  of  suspense — scarcely  less  hard  to 
bear  than  the  pang  of  finding  the  name  of  a  loved  one 
among  those  of  the  heroic  slain — must  continue  another 
day,  perhaps  many  days.  Now  the  moans  of  the  wounded 
and  the  sound  of  pick  and  shovel  in  the  burial  trenches  are 
drowned  in  the  shouts  of  triumph.  When  the  echoes  of 
the  wild  huzzas  have  died  away,  then  will  come  to  aching 
hearts  that  cannot  be  comforted,  a  realization  of  how 
great  a  price  was  paid  for  the  victory. 

Though  the  first  hastily  prepared  report  of  the  battle  is 
barren  of  the  details  so  eagerly  sought,  there  is  yet  enough 
to  absorb  the  thoughts  and  stir  to  their  profoundest 
depths  the  hearts  of  these  people.  Such  gallantry  as  that 
displayed  by  the  200th  Indiana  could  not  pass  unno- 
ticed, even  in  the  furious  hurly-burly  of  the  fight.  As 
they  read  how  it  led  the  charge  up  to  the  very  mouths  of 
the  belching  guns,  and  how  its  ranks  were  thinned  as  it 
grandly  breasted  the  fierce  and  deadly  blast  from  musket 
and  cannon,  they  know  that  Company  Q  was  there  and 
many  of  its  brave  men  must  have  fallen.  Instinctively 
they  look  into  one  another's  faces  as  if  to  ask,  Is  it  my 
son?  /Mj  father?  2777  brother?  1227 husband?  Oh  that  one 
might  be  found  who  can  answer,  and  put  an  end  to  these 
awful  forebodings !    It  were  better  to  know  the  worst. 

Then  a  wave  of  patriotic  rejoicing  sweeps  over  that 
gathering,  and  before  it  even  the  fear  and  dread  and  love 
give  way  for  the  moment.  Men  and  women,  old  and 
young,   with  tearful  eyes,  swing  their  hats,  wave  their 


520  SAD  NEWS  FOR  FARMER  KLEGG. 

kerchiefs,  and  unite  their  tremulous  voices  in  a  shout  for 
those  who  so  nobly  obeyed  the  call  of  duty.  They  are 
proud  of  their  sons  and  brothers,  even  though  their  man- 
gled bodies  lie  stark  and  stiffened  on  the  field  their  valor 
helped  to  win. 

But  there  was  one  thing  in  the  newspaper  report  that 
pierced  like  an  arrow  the  hearts  of  that  company.  Their 
pulses  quickened  as  they  read  how  Corporal  Klegg  of 
Company  Q  had  borne  the  flag  of  the  200th  Indiana  up 
the  rugged  hill  and  planted  it  upon  the  flaming  crest,  and 
then— that  he  was  killed.  For  more  than  two  years  they 
had  been  reading  of  battles  with  their  awful  scenes  of 
slaughter.  They  were  becoming  familiar  with  death,  but 
this  brought  it  near  to  them.  Strong  men  shuddered  and 
women  wept  as  they  heard  the  sorrow^ful  tidings.  On 
every  hand  v^ere  heard  the  most  sincere  expressions  of 
grief  for  *' Poor  Si." 

Farmer  Klegg,  in  his  eager  quest  for  news,  walked  rapidly 
toward  the  railway  station. 

''There  comes  Si's  father !"  said  one.  ''Poor  man,  what 
a  blow  it  wnll  be  to  him !" 

"True  enough,"  said  another,  "and  tomorrow  the  blow 
may  fall  on  you  and  me." 

A  moment  later  Mr.  Klegg,  flushed  with  anxiety,  joined 
the  throng.  He  saw  at  a  glance  the  unwonted  excitement, 
the  sad,  earnest  faces,  the  crumpled  newspapers ;  he  heard 
the  hum  of  many  voices,  talking  in  hushed  tones.  He 
knew^  that  information  of  some  kind  had  been  received. 
He  needed  not  to  ask  what  it  w^as  about.  There  was  but 
one  subject,  and  that  filled  all  minds  and  hearts.  As  he 
glanced  quickly  into  the  faces  of  his  friends  and  neighbors 
he  saw  looks  of  pit^^  and  seemed  as  if  by  intuition  to 
divine  their  meaning. 

" What  news  from— the  battle?"  he  asked,  hesitatingly, 
and  yet  wath  breathless  longing. 


A  BLOW  THAT  FELL  HEAVILY.  521 

**It  was  a  splendid  victory.  The  200th  Indiana  covered 
itself  with  glory.     We  can  all  be  proud  of  Company  Q." 

''Yes,"  he  answered,  nervously,  ''I  wasn't  afraid  of  their 
flinchin',  but  did  you  hear  anything  about  my— about  any 
of  the  boys  ?" 

A  sad  silence  fell  like  a  pall  over  the  crowd.  Hearts  that 
were  racked  with  alternate  hopes  and  fears  for  their  own 
dear  ones,  ached  for  him,  yet  none  could  break  to  him  the 
tidings. 

*'The  paper  says  Si  was — badly  hurt!"  said  one,  timidly. 

''Let  me  see  it!  Give  me  the  paper!''  he  exclaimed,  as 
with  trembling  hands  he  drew  his  glasses  from  his  pocket 
and  put  them  on. 

A  paper  was  handed  him.  He  looked  for  an  instant  at 
the  startling  head  lines,  and  then  his  eye  wandered  up 
and  down  the  long  columns.  Tears  stole  down  the  cheeks 
of  those  around  as  they  watched  him. 

"Will  some  one  show  me  where  it  tells  about  my  boy?" 
he  asked,  struggling  to  suppress  his  emotions. 

A  finger  was  laid  upon  the  paragraph.  With  what  pas- 
sionate eagerness  he  scanned  it.  When  he  reached  the 
fateful  words  that  told  him  his  brave  boy  was  among  the 
slain  the  paper  dropped  from  his  tremulous  grasp,  the 
color  left  his  face,  and  with  his  hand  pressed  to  his  fore- 
head and  his  eyes  closed,  he  stood  for  a  moment  like  a 
statue,  the  embodiment  of  paternal  grief.  In  such  a 
presence  the  people  stood  in  silent  compassion. 

"Dead?  Si  dead?"  he  said  at  length,  in  a  choking  voice, 
as  if  thinking  aloud,  and  unconscious  of  his  surroundings. 
"God  help  your  poor  mother!  How  can  I  tell  her!  And 
yet  I  must  go  to  her  at  once !" 

Then  there  came  to  him  thoughts  of  the  heroic  manliness 
of  his  son,  and  in  the  noble  spirit  of  patriotic  sacrifice  he 
•aid  in  tender  tones : 

"But  Si  did  his  duty  bravely  and  died  like  a  true  soldier! 
Better  dead— a  hero,  than  living— a  coward!    Si  was  a 


522  HEROISM  AT  HOME. 

good  and  dutiful  boy.  It  is  very  hard  to  think  of  him — 
so !  Oh,  if  I  could  only  believe  it  is  not  true !  I  would 
gladly  give  m}^  own  life  if  it  could  bring  Si  back  to  his 
mother."  Then  he  added,  as  if  ashamed  of  his  weakness, 
even  under  such  a  crushing  burden  of  sorrow :  *'  May  God 
give  me  strength  to  show  myself  worthy  of  such  a  son. 
Ten  thousand  fathers,  w^hose  sons  were  as  dear  to  them  as 
was  mine  to  me,  have  been  called  to  lay  them  upon  the 
altar;  why  should  not  I?  " 

An  involuntary  cheer  went  up  in  honor  of  the  old  farmer's 
brave  spirit.  The  people  crowded  around  him  with 
streaming  eyes  and  in  turn  grasped  his  hand  and  spoke 
words  of  sympath3^  He  heard  them,  but  the  kindh^  utter- 
ances seemed  almost  meaningless. 

''Neighbors  and  friends,"  he  said,  ''I  thank  you  all.  This 
nation  is  going  to  be  saved,  and  if  it's  necessary  I'm  ready 
to  shoulder  a  gun  and  take  Si's  place.  I  haven't  felt  the 
war  before.  My  share  of  the  burden  has  been  laid  on  me 
at  last,  and  I'm  w-illing  to  bear  it.  The  w^ar  is  going  to 
end  right  as  sure  as  there's  a  God  in  heaven,  and  when  it's 
over  the  country  will  be  all  the  dearer  to  us  for  the  sacri- 
fices we  have  made  to  save  it." 

The  first  great  shock  was  over.  It  was  well  for  Farmer 
Klegg  that  he  had  recovered  himself  before  facing  the  or- 
deal of  communicating  the  intelligence  to  his  wife. 

''Si's  mother  is  waiting  for  me,  "he  said.  "May  the  good 
Lord  give  her  the  same  strength  that  he  has  given  me." 

His  steps  were  unconsciously  slow^  as  he  w^alked  back  to 
the  house  where  he  had  left  her  half  an  hour  before,  and 
w^here  he  knew  she  was  aw^aiting  his  coming  with  all  the 
yearning  solicitude  that  a  mother's  heart  can  know.  He 
prayed  for  help,  feeling  his  need  of  every  assistance,  human 
and  divine,  to  meet' the  sorest  trial  of  his  life. 

Every  moment  since  he  left  her  she  had  been  sitting  with 
her  face  at  the  windows-pane,  gazing  wistfully  down  the 
street  whence  he  had  gone.    Minutes    seemed  hours  as  she 


THE  STRICKEN   MOTHER.  ,523 

watched  for  his  return.  When  he  came  in  sight  her  heart 
gave  a  great  bound.  Springing  to  her  feet  she  flew  to  meet 
him  at  the  gate. 

As  he  approached,  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground, 
a  subtle  instinct  told  him  she  was  there.  He  felt  her  pres- 
ence; and  her  appealing  look,  though  he  saw  it  not, 
thrilled  his  inmost  soul,  but  he  could  not  lift  his  eyes  to 
hers. 

''Husband?'' 

He  looked  up.  She  read  it  in  his  face  as  plainly  as  if  the 
printed  words  had  been  stamped  upon  his  moist  cheek  and 
quivering  lip.  With  a  quick  gasp  and  a  convulsive  cry  she 
flung  herself  upon  his  breast.  She  would  have  fallen  but 
for  his  enfolding  embrace. 

**I  will  help  you  to  bear  it,  mother,''  he  said  tenderly. 
''Let  us  go  into  the  house." 

Lifting  the  fainting  woman  in  his  strong  arms  he  bore 
her  across  the  threshold.  Laying  her  upon  a  sofa  he 
kissed  her  white  lips  and  took  her  hand  between  his  own. 
Large  hands  were  his,  browned  and  calloused  by  two 
score  years  of  toil,  but  to  her  there  was  no  touch  on  earth 
so  soft  as  their  tender,  loving  pressure.  Kind-hearted 
friends  gathered  around  and  proflered  their  services,  but 
he  vsraved  them  aside. 

"Leave  her  to  me— and  God,"  he  said. 

He  softly  smoothed  her  hair  with  his  hand,  and  spoke  to 
her  in  endearing  words.  A  flood  of  tears  came,  and 
brought  relief  to  the  overburdened  heart. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  when  calmness  came,  after  the  par- 
oxysm had  subsided,  "Si  carried  the  flag  of  the  regiment 
up  the  ridge  ahead  of  all  the  others,  right  into  the  blaze 
of  the  rebel  guns.  I  read  it  in  the  paper.  It  was  just  after 
he  got  to  the  top  and  victory  was  close  by  that  he  was — 
that  he  fell.  There  never  was  a  braver,  nobler  boy,  nor 
one  who  did  his  duty  better.  It  will  be  a  great  comfort  to 
xlSm  mother,  to  think  of  this,  and  to  remember  what  a  good 


524  .  TWO  MORE  BLEEDING  HEARTS. 

son  he  has  always  been  to  us.  It  isn't  everybody  that  has 
such  boys  to  give  when  the  country  needs  them." 

Strength  of  body  and  mind  came  slowly  but  surely  back 
to  the  stricken  mother,  and  with  it  came  that  matchless 
spirit  of  devotion  that  nerved  the  women  of  the  whole 
country,  north  and  south,  during  those  four  years  of  fire 
and  blood. 

''My  dear  husband,"  she  said  quietly,  ''it  is  God's  will, 
and  I  submit.  But  I  cannot  talk  of  it  now.  We  will  go 
home  if  you  are  ready." 

Almost  in  silence,  with  brave  though  bursting  hearts, 
they  rode  to  the  home  that  would  be  so  desolate  now. 
I'he  light  of  his  presence  would  never  dispel  the  darkness. 

During  the  few  hours  of  their  absence  the  daughter  had 
done  little  but  strain  her  eyes  along  the  road  b3^  which 
they  would  return.  Nor  was  she  alone.  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  Annabel,  learning  that  the  farmer  and  his  wife  had 
gone  to  the  village,  should  put  on  her  bonnet  and  go  over 
to  see  if  Maria  had  any  news  from  him  ;  and  then  to  wait 
and  watch  with  her  ? 

There  were  two  more  bleeding  hearts  when  Farmer 
Klegg  and  his  wife  came.  There  were  bitter  tears  and 
convulsive  sobs  as  the  dreadful  words,  like  keenly-barbed 
shafts,  did  their  cruel  work. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Klegg  drove  again  to  the  village. 
All  his  farm  work  was  forgotten  except  such  periodical 
duties  as  necessit}^  required.  He  was  waiting  at  the  rail- 
way station  long  before  the  train  was  due  that  would 
bring  the  daily  papers  with  later  accounts  of  the  battle. 
Others,  too,  were  there,  by  scores,  anxious  for  tidings  from 
"the  front."  On  all  sides  were  heard  words  of  sympathy 
for  Farmer  Klegg,  in  the  great  sorrow  that  had  befallen 
him. 

When  the  train  dashed  up  a  hundred  eager  hands  were 
outstretched  for  the  newspapers.  In  a  moment  Mr.  Klegg 
kad  secured  one,  and  withdrawing  a  little  way  from  the 


ALIVE    AGAIN. 


525 


crush  he  opened  it.    Instantly  his  eye  caught,  among  the 
flaming  head-lines  : 

''brave  corporal  klegg  not  killed." 

Si's  preeminent  gallantry,  coupled  with  the  fact  that 
the  200th  Indiana  v^^as  from  that  part  of  the  state,  had 
made  him  a  conspicuous  object  of  interest. 

Farmer  Klegg's  heart  seemed  almost  to  burst  from 
his  body  as  he  read  it  again,  to  assure  himself  that  he  was 
not  mistaken. 
The  sudden  re- 
vulsion of  feel- 
ing, the  over- 
whelming jov, 
swept  entirely  i  ^ 
away  for  the  J^A.^^ 
moment  the 
staid  disfnitv  of 
his  usual  mien. 
Swinging  his 
hat  in  one  hand 
and  his  news- 
paper in  the 
other  he  leajDcd 
into  the  air  with 


great 


shout. 


MY  BOY  IS  NOT  DEAD 


Then  he  looked  t^^S.,.-^ 
again  at  the  ^^ 
blessed  words, 
and  as  the  happj^  tears  trickled  down  his  cheeks  he  rever- 
ently turned  his  eyes  upward  and,  with  an  intensity  of 
pathos,  breathed  the  words  : 

''Father  in  Heaven,  I  thank  Thee!" 

Under  other  circumstances  those  who  stood  by  would 
have  thought  him  bereft  of  reason ;  but  other  quick  eyes 
had  read  the  tidings,  and  none  wondered  at  the  overflow 
of  his  feelings. 


526  THE  FURIOUS  HOMEWARD  RIDE. 

He  gave  no  heed  to  those  who  gathered  about  him.  He 
waited  not  to  read  the  dispatches.  His  only  thought  was 
of  mother  and  sister,  who  were  sitting  in  the  shadow  of 
death,  while  grief  was  gnawing  at  their  heart-strings. 
Dashing  through  the  crowd  he  went  upon  a  run,  nor 
stopped  until  he  reached  his  buggy. 

''What  is  it,  Neighbor  Klegg?"  asked  a  friend  whom  he 
passed  in  the  street. 

''My  boy  is  not  dead  I^'  he  answered  without  pausing  in 
his  flight. 

The  strap  by  which  the  horse  was  tied  had  perversely 
drawn  itself  into  a  hard  knot.  Without  waiting  to  untie 
it  he  quickly  drew  out  his  knife,  cut  the  strap,  leaped  into 
the  seat,  seized  the  reins,  and  began  to  apply  the  whip  to 
the  horse's  back  and  sides. 

''Now,  git  up,  Doll!"  he  shouted.  "Travel  for  your 
life!  Ye  never  carried  such  news  before.  G'lang,  there, 
why  don't  ye!" 

The  mare  was  at  a  gallop,  but  it  seemed  to  him  a  snail's 
pace,  in  his  impetuous  haste.  Again  and  again  the  lash 
descended  upon  the  astonished  beast.  Goaded  to  despera- 
tion, the  faithful  animal  seemed  at  length  to  realize  that  it 
was  an  extraordinary  emergency  and  fairly  flew  along  the 
road.  The  fast-clattering  hoofs  startled  the  people  in  their 
houses,  and  they  looked  with  wondering  eyes  upon  a  thing 
so  strange  for  Farmer  Klegg.  Other  vehicles,  as  he  ap- 
proached at  furious  pace,  drew  off  the  road  as  if  to  escape 
from  a  runaway.  But  he  leaned  forward  and  unconsciously 
plied  his  whip,  urging  his  steed  to  still  greater  efforts. 
Men  who  recognized  him  tried  to  speak  to  him  as  he  went 
whirling  by. 

"Don't  stop  me!"  he  exclaimed.     "My  boy  is  alive!" 

The  farmer's  wife  and  daughter  had  mechanically  per- 
formed such  simple  household  duties  as  could  not  be  left 
undone.  Then,  with  pale  faces  and  tearful  eyes,  they 
watched  for  his  return. 


THREE  HAPPY  HEARTS. 


527 


"There  he  comes,  mother;  and  see  how  he  drives!  Oh, 
can  it  be  possible  that—" 

Both  run  out  to  the  gate.  Maria  does  not  finish  the 
sentence  she  began ;  she  dares  not  suggest  a  hope  only  to 
see  it  dashed  to  pieces,  and  themselves  plunged  into  even 
a  lower  depth  of  grief. 

Rapidly  he  draws  near.  His  hat  has  fallen  off  and  his 
thin,  gray  hair  is  streaming  in  disorder  about  his  head. 

''Mother!"  he  shouts,  as  he  draws  rein  upon  the  pant- 
ing horse,  ''our boy 
is  not  dead  !  He 
— is — not  —  dead ! ' ' 
And  the  tears  start 
afresh  as  he  ex- 
claims, "  Praise 
God  from  whom  all 
blessings  flow!" 

He  springs  from 
the  buggy  and  in 
an  instant  father, 
mother,  daughter, 
are  clasped  in  one 
another's  arms, 
mingling  their  glad 
tears  for  him  that 
"was  dead  and  is 
alive  again."  farmer  klegg's  drr^. 

"  Come  into  the  house,  dears, "  said  Farmer  Klegg.  "I've 
got  a  newspaper  that  tells  about  it.  I  didn't  stop  to  read 
it.  I  saw  it  in  big  letters  that  Si  w^asn't  killed  and  that 
was  enough  for  me  to  know  till  I  could  come  home  and 
tell  you.  If  I've  killed  old  Doll,  she  couldn't  die  in  a  better 
cause." 

He  tried  to  read,  but  his  misty  eyes  refused  to  perform 
their  ofiice. 

"Read  it,  daughter!"  he  said,  handing  her  the  paper. 


528  SI  SURPRISES  THE  VILLAGERS, 

''there's  something  wrong  with  my  specs,  and  I  can't  see 
through  'em ! ' ' 

And  while  their  hearts  throbbed,  and  the  light  of  their 
smiles  seemed  to  make  rainbows  in  their  tears,  Maria  read 
how  Si  had  been  wounded  as  he  bore  the  flag  into  the 
flame  and  smoke  of  the  enemy's  guns.  How  badly  he  was 
hurt  the  report  did  not  say,  and  there  Avere  tender  long- 
ings to  know  all;  but  their  son  and  brother  ^vas  not  dead, 
and  this  knowledge  came  to  them  like  a  sweet  benediction 
from  heaven. 

*'God  will  not  let  him  die !"  said  the  farmer's  wife. 

''Amen!"  exclaimed  Farmer  Klegg. 

A  few  minutes  later  Maria  put,  on  her  bonnet,  slipped 
noiselessly  out  of  the  house  and  went  with  hurrying  feet 
to  tell  Annabel  the  glad  news.  They  wept  together  in  the 
fullness  of  their  joy. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Corporal   Klegg   Reaches   Home    and   there   is   Happiness    all 

Around. 

HT  TELLO,  Si!" 

Xj.  This  cordial  and  hearty  greeting  fell  upon  Cor- 
poral Klegg' s  ears  as  he  alighted  from  the  train  two  days 
later.  His  face  was  recognized  by  a  dozen  in  the  crowd, 
the  instant  it  emerged  from  the  door  of  the  car,  and  a 
chorus  of  voices  uttering  these  words  of  welcome  was  the 
introductory  overture  to  the  tumultuous  reception  that 
awaited  him.  It  was  purely  spontaneous,  for  not  even 
Farmer  Klegg  had  any  intimation  of  his  coming. 

The  daily  throng  of  people  in  quest  of  news  from  the 
battle  was  unabated.    Many  of  them  were  the  same  per- 


AND  IS  WARMLY  WELCOMED. 


529 


sons,  who  had  come  day  after  day  in  the  hope  of  hearing 
from  those  who  were  near  and  dear.  Business  and  all  the 
ordinary  concerns  of  life  were  almost  forgotten  in  the  one 
engrossing  theme  of  thought  and  conversation. 

As  Si  descended  the  steps  of  the  car,  with  one  arm  in  a 
sling,  he  glanced  hastily  around  upon  the  eager  faces,  with 
a  glad  smile  and  a  cheery  "Hello!" 

''Three  cheers  for  Si  Klegg!"    shouted   an  enthusiastic 
admirer  of  the  gallant 
young  soldier,  and  they 
were  given  with  royal 
good  will. 

He  was  instantly  sur- 
rounded by  scores  of 
people,  jostling  and 
crowding  one  another 
in  their  desire  to  take 
him  by  the  hand  and 
ply  him  with  questions.  '^ 

''I'll  have  ter  ax  ye 
ter  be  a  leetle  keerful," 
he  said,  as  they  throng- 
ed about  him,  "fer  that 
arm 's  consid'ably  dam- 
idged  'n'  it's  sorer  'n' 
an}^  bile  ye  ever  seed." 

This  word  of  caution 
had    the  desired' effect,  "hello,  si 

and  care  was  taken  that  he  should  have  plenty  of  **sea 
room  "  on  that  side. 

Si  was  furiously  bombarded  with  words  of  commenda- 
tion and  inquiries  from  everyone.  The  whole  community 
was  proud  of  him.  The  people  said  that  if  they  had  known 
he  was  coming  they  w^ouJd  have  turned  out  the  brass 
band  that  he  might  be  received  in  a  fitting  manner.  A 
dozen  at  the  same  time  were  asking  eager  questions  con- 


530  FARMER  KLEGG'S  HAPPINESS. 

cerning  other  members  of  Company  Q,  for  as  yet  but  few 
details  of  the  casualties  had  reached  the  village.  It  would 
have  kept  his  tongue  busy  for  hours  to  answer  all  the 
questions  that  \vere  put  to  him  in  five  minutes. 

For  a  time  it  was  impossible  for  Si  to  make  his  way 
through  the  crowd ;  but  he  looked  wistfulh^  about,  if  per- 
chance he  might  see  the  face  of  his  father  or  mother  or 
sister  Maria.  He  even  thought  it  barely  possible  that 
Annabel  might  happen  to  be  there.  One  of  his  arms  was 
still  in  serviceable  condition,  and  he  was  sure  it  would  be 
able  to  do  extra  dut}^  to  make  up  for  the  other,  that  must 
be  but  an  idle  witness  of  the  proceedings.  His  heart  and 
head  were  so  full  of  these  things,  and  of  home  and  the  dear 
ones  there,  that  he  heard  little  of  the  confused  babble  of 
the  crowd  around  him. 

An  old  man  came  up  in  breathless  haste  and  began  to 
push  his  way  through  the  throng. 

"  Let  me  see  Si !"  he  exclaimed,  while  tears  of  joy  trickled 
down  his  cheeks.  All  recognized  his  right,  and  the  crowd 
gave  way  on  either  side  that  he  might  pass. 

'^Oh,  my  boy!" 

''Father  I" 

Farmer  Klegg  clasped  his  arms  about  the  neck  of  his  son 
and  long  held  him  in  a  jo3rful  embrace.  The  eyes  of  the 
bystanders  moistened  in  glad  sympathy.  Many  who 
looked  upon  the  happy  meeting  longed,  with  an  unspeak- 
able yearning,  to  fold  their  sons  and  brothers  to  their 
hearts. 

''Let  us  go  home,"  said  Mr.  Klegg,  leading  the  way. 
"  There's  a  coupleo' women  there  as  'd  e'ena'most  gocrazy 
'f  they  knowed  ye'd  come.  I've  got  the  old  mar'  here  an' 
it  won't  take  long  to  drive  out.  She's  got  used  to  goin' 
back  and  forrard  'tween  here  an'  the  farm,  these  last  few 
days.  I  reck'n  I  don't  need  to  tell  ye  why  I've  been  comin' 
to  town  every  momin',  as  fast  as  Doll's  feet  could  fly !" 

"I  don't  know,  'nless  ye  was  bringin'  yer  farm  truck  to 


FATHER  AND   SOX.  531 

market,"  replied  Si,  as  they  walked  rapidly  away,  ''but  I 
can't  see  what  ye  druv  so  fast  fer ;  ye  alius  told  me  to  be 
easy  with  the  bosses.  Was  ye  hurrjnn'  'cause  ye  was 
afeared  prices  'd  drap?" 

''My  dear  boy,  can't  you  think  how  we  felt  when  we 
^ot  news  of  the  battle,  and  knew  Company  Q  was  in  it. 
An'  it  was  a  good  deal  worse  'n  that.  Si,  for  we  heard  you 
was  killed.    I  read  it  myself  in  the  newspaper.    I  ain't 
goin'  to  tell  ye  what  a  cruel  blow  it  was  to  yer  mother 
an'  sister.     Ye  can  git  some  kind  of  an  idee  if  ye'll  obsarve 
how  glad  they  are  to  see  ye.    It  was  like  a  camp-meetin' 
at  our  house  the  next  daj^  when  I  got  back  from  town 
with  the  news  that  ye  wasn't  dead.     An'  every  day  since 
I  hain't  done  mtjch  else  besides  tryin'  to  find  out  how  bad 
ye  was  hurt  an'  where  ye  was.    I  told  mother  this  mornin' 
that  I'd  'bout  made  up  my  mind  to  take  the  keers  an'  go 
down  there  an'  see  'f  I  couldn't  hunt  ye  up  an'  bring  ye 
home.    An'  here  ye  are,  bless  yer  heart,  lookin'  jest  like  ye 
always  did,  'cept  that  ye're  a  little  tanned  an'  weather- 
beaten,  which  ain't  noways  strange  considerin'  the  way 
ye've  been  livin'.    An'  how's  yer  poor  arm?  an'  won't  ye 
be  glad  to  have  mother  dress  it  for  ye?    I  read  in  the 
paper  how  jq  behaved  3- erself  in  the  fight ;  an'  mother  an' 
me  was  proud  that  you  was  our  bo3%   even  when  we 
thought  ye  was  dead." 

From  the  overflowing  heart  of  the  farmer  came  a  rush 
of  happy  thoughts,  which  almost  insensibly  btibbled  forth 
in  words.  He  talked,  scarcely  conscious  of  what  he  was 
saying,  only  knowing  that  he  was  once  more  speaking, 
face  to  face,  with  his  boy. 

"I  didn't  think  ye  was  worryin'  so  'bout  me,''  said  Si. 
'*I  might  ha'  telegrafted  ye  a  couple  o'  days  ago  't  I  was 
all  right  'n'  was  comin'  home,  but  I  thought  it'd  be  kind 
o'  nice  to  s'prise  ye  like.  The  fust  noosepaper  I  seen  arter 
I  started,  had  a  long  lingo  'bout  Si  Klegg,  'n'  I  thought 
it  must  be  there  was  some  other  feller  'd  got  my  name. 


6*i52  "oh,  mother, 

but  everybody  said  it  was  me.  I  couldn't  see  what  the/ 
wanted  to  put  sich  a  piece  in  the  paper  fer.  Ef  I'd  had 
my  way  I  wouldn't  ha'  come  home  fer  this,  but  the  doctor 
told  me  I  had  ter.  Ye  mus'n't  think  'twas  cause  I  didn't 
keer  ter  see  ye,  but  I  didn't  want  ter  go  back  on  the  old 
rijiment.  I  didn't  know  H would  feel  so  good  ter  git  hum. 
Can't  we  git  over  the  ground  a  leetle  faster?" 

They  were  now  well  on  their  way.  Si  looked  at  once 
familiar  objects  with  as  much  interest  as  if  his  absence 
had  been  ten  times  as  long.  Indeed,  he  had  lived  so  much 
since  he  went  to  the  war,  that  it  seemed  like  half  a  score 
of  years  instead  of  one.  So  completely  had  the  new  life 
absorbed  his  very  being  that  memory  gave  him  only  faint 
glimpses  of  his  boyhood  days,  though  they  were  but  such  a 
little  while  ago.  Now  the  old  scenes  were  before  him,  and 
for  the  time  he  was  not  a  soldier,  but  again  the  simple- 
hearted  farmer's  boy. 

At  home  wife  and  daughter  were  watching  for  Farmer 
Klegg's  return,  as  they  had  done  every  day  since  the  news 
of  the  battle. 

''Father  is  coming!"  said  Maria,  whose  keen  eye  recog- 
nized him  while  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off.  "There's 
somebody  riding  with  him,  dressed  in  soldier  clothes.  0/z, 
mother,  it's  Si!'' 

With  beating  hearts  and  quickening  pulses  they  flew  to 
the  door  and  out  through  the  gate.  With  rapid  steps 
they  hurried  down  the  road  to  meet  them.  They  clapped 
their  hands  and  waved  they  kerchiefs,  while  Si  swung  his 
hat  and  shouted,  and  Farmer  Klegg  stung  the  mare's 
foaming  flanks  with  his  whip. 

A  moment  later  Si  clambered  out  of  the  buggy,  as  fast 
as  his  wounded  arm  would  permit,  and  was  received  into 
the  welcoming  embrace  of  mother  and  sister. 

**My  dear,  brave  boy!"  said  his  mother,  folding  him  to 
her  bosom,  and  smiling  through  her  tears.  ''My  life  has 
■QCYer  known  a  greater  happiness  than  this.    I  believe  I 


IN  LOYING  EMBRACE. 


533 


know  something  of  how  that  poor  widow  felt  when  Christ 
raised  her  son  from  the  dead.  Did  you  know  he  was  com- 
ing, father  ?    Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?" 

''Mother,"  replied  Mr.  Klegg,  "do  you  suppose  I  would 
have  kept  back  such  a  J03'  from  you  if  I  had  known  it?  I 
was  just  as  much  surprised  as  you  was.  I  hadn't  the 
faintest  idee  he  was  comin'  till  they  told  me  in  town,  as  1 
was  hurryin'  to  the  depot,  that  Si  had  jest  got  off  the 
train.  An'  didn't  I  make  the  crowd  get  out  of  the  way 
an'  let  me  through  till 


him 


'to 

in    these 


I    had 
arms?" 

"  It  was  this  way, 
mother,"  said  Si,  "I 
didn't  know  myself  *t 
I  was  comin'  t'll  jest 
'fore  I  started.  While 
the  doctor  was  tyin' 
my  arm  up  in  a  rag  he 
told  me  he'd  get  a  fur- 
lough fer  me,  'n'  I'd  got! 
ter  come  home  'n'  re- 
pair damidges.  If  I'd 
thought  ye  was  all 
a-frettin'  'bout  me  I 
mout  ha'  sent  ye  a 
what -d'ye -call -it  —  I 
mean  a  tellygram,  but 
I  was  stupid  'nuff  not  to  think  on  it.  I  'lowed  mebbe  ye'd 
be  gladder  ter  see  me  T  I  sort  o'  bounced  in  on  ye  ^thout 
lettin'  ye  know  nothin'  'bout  it.  I  don't  wonder  at  yer 
worryiti'  since  father  told  me  ye  heerd  I  was  killed.  I  seen 
suthin  'bout  it  in  the  paper,  myself,  but  I  didn't  think  it 
had  ter  be  true  jest  'cause  the  noosepaper  said  so.  I 
didn't  b'lieve  it,  'n'  I  didn't  s'pose  you  would  ef  ye  sh'd 
happen  ter  see  it.    But  it's  all  right  anyway,  mother.    I'm 


HOME 


534  MORE  SINCERE  GREETINGS. 

here,  's  sound  's  a  hardtack,  'ceptin'  where  the  Johnny  rebs 
chipped  off  a  piece,  'n'  that  won't  be  long  gittin'  well  now 
't  I've  got  you  'n'  Marier  to  do  the  nussin\  But  say, 
mother,  have  ye  got  any  pie?" 

''Why,  bless  ye.  Si,  of  course  I  have,  an'if  I'd  known  you 
fvas  comin'  I'd  'a'  had  a  dozen  ready  baked  for  je.  Td 
ought  to  thought  o'  yer  bein'  hungry,  but  I  couldn't  think 
o'  nothin'  only  that  you  was  here." 

They  had  already  reached  the  house  and  there  were  not 
four  happier  hearts  in  the  world  than  theirs,  as  they 
crossed  the  threshold.  Si's  mother  inquired  with  tender 
solicitude  if  his  arm  did  not  need  attention. 

'' WeVe  been  makin'  bandages  and  scrapin'  lint  to  send 
down  to  the  hospitals,"  she  said,  "  and  I've  got  plenty  of 
'em.  Who'd  ha'  thought  I  was  gettin'  'em  ready  to  use  on 
my  ownbo}^" 

Si  thanked  his  mother,  but  fissured  her  that  his  stom- 
ach was  just  then  in  much  greater  need  of  her  kindh^  min- 
istrations than  was  his  arm.  Remembering  the  perennial 
vigor  of  his  appetite,  she  bestirred  herself  with  a  zeal  be- 
fitting the  occasion. 

"Look  around  a  bit.  Si,"  she  said,  ''an'  see  if  things  is 
nat'ral.    I'll  have  a  good  snack  ready  for  ye  right  quick.'* 

Si  wandered  about  the  house  and  farm^^ard  in  a  trans- 
port of  delight,  as  everywhere  his  eye  met  objects  that  had 
been  familiar  to  him  from  his  earliest  remembrance.  Every 
article  in  the  house  looked  just  as  it  used  to,  only  tenfold 
more  charming,  and  the  well  polished  furniture  seemed  to 
shine  with  a  smile  of  welcome.  Out  b}^  the  barn  Old  Spot 
and  Muley  rolled  their  big  e^^es  and  lowed  as  if  in  recogni- 
tion ;  the  speckled  hen  and  the  lordly  rooster  cocked  their 
heads  and  winked  as  much  as  to  say  "How  are  ye.  Si;" 
the  sheep  came  gall  oping  up  at  his  call ;  and  even  the  swine 
lifted  their  snouts  and  grunted  a  greeting  that  was  evi- 
dently sincere,  whatever  it  may  have  lacked  in  melody. 
.    Si  was  half  inclined  to  draw  the  line  at  the  pigs.    After 


CORNER       IN   PIE. 


535 


his  diet  of  the  past  3'ear  he  felt  that  he  never  wanted  to  see 
another  pig  as  long  as  he  lived. 

•'Great  Caesar !"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  peered  over  into  the 
sty,  ''I  wonder  how  many  more  bar'ls  o'  pork  'n'  flitches 
o'  bacon  I've  got  ter  swaller  'fore  this  'ere  rebellion  's 
squelched !  But  it  does  taste  good  'long  'th  the  hardtack 
when  a  feller's  reel  hungr3^  I  don't  see  how  they  c'd  run  a 
war  'thout  hogs  any  more  'n  'thout  soljers." 

''Come,  Si!" 

His  soliloquy  was 
abruptly  ended  by 
his  mother  calling 
him  to  the  meal 
that  had  been  pre- 
pared. How  sweet- 
ly her  voice  sounded 
in  his  ears  ;  and 
with  what  alacrity 
did  he  obey  the 
welcome  summons. 
The  combined  ef- 
forts of  mother  and 
sister  had  produced 
a  royal  feast.  Ex- 
haustible drafts  had 
been  made  upon 
the  family  larder, 
and  the  table  was 
spread  with  everything  that  appetite  could  wish. 

"I'm  sorry  I  hain't  got  nothin' better  for  ye.  Si,  ''remarked 
his  mother,  in  an  apologetic  way — as  the  skillful  housewife 
always  does  when  she  is  conscious  that  her  culinary  efforts 
have  been  more  than  usually  successful. 

"  'Tis  too  bad,  mother,  I  feel  sorry  'bout  it,  myself,"  said 
Si,  as  he  began  the  attack  upon  a  quarter  section  of  pie. 
**But  reely,"  he  continued,  "ye  don't  mean  it,  fer  this  is 


SrS  5ARNYARD  WELCOME. 


536  *' WISH  SHORTY  WAS  here!" 

jest  boss.  Ye'd  think  same  's  I  do  'f  ye'd  been  tryin' 
ter  live  on  the  kind  o'  grub  we  have  down  in  Comp'ny  Q. 
Ye  wouldn't  have  a  tooth  left  in  yer  jaws.  I  tell  ye  what 
'tis,  mother,  that  feller's  head  was  level 't  writ  that  song 
'bout  'Ther'  ain't  no  place  like  home.'  The  boys  sings  it  a 
good  deal  down  in  Dixie,  'n'  'tain't  no  nonsense,  nuther." 

Si's  talk  was  not  continuous.  It  was  as  natural  for  his 
tongue  to  go  rattling  on  as  it  was  for  him  to  eat  when- 
ever he  had  a  good  chance.  At  this  time  both  impulses 
were  strong  and  he  gratified  them  by  turns.  The  happy 
combination  was  not  more  satisfactory  to  himself  than  to 
his  mother  and  Maria,  who  sat  upon  either  side  listeningto 
his  chatter  and  enjoying  almost  as  much  as  he  did  the 
keen  relish  and  the  rapidity  with  which  he  disposed  of 
the  edibles.^  His  ability  to  wait  upon  himself  was  sadly 
crippled,  but  this  lack  was  fully  supplied  by  his  faithful 
attendants,  who  anticipated  his  every  want,  and  pre- 
pared his  food  in  convenient  shape  for  conveyance  to  his 
mouth. 

'*  Wish  Shorty  was  here  so  he  c'd  have  a  squar'  meal  fer 
once,"  he  continued,  as  he  poured  a  liberal  *' ration  "of 
rich  cream  into  his  third  tup  of  coffee.  ''I'd  like  ter  send 
a  gallon  er  two  o'  this  stuff  down  to  the  boys  o'  Comp'ny 
Q — what  there  is  left  of  'em*,  fer  they  got  cut  up  awful  when 
we  went  up  the  ridge.  But  I  ain't  goin'  ter  talk  'bout 
that  now,  fer  it  makes  me  feel  bad  jest  ter  think  on  it.  Ye 
don't  know  Shorty,  do  ye?  P'r'aps  ye  don't  tmderstand 
how  every  soljer  's  got  a  pard.  Shorty  's  mine,  and  ther' 
ain't  a  man  'n  the  rijiment  that's  got 's  good  a  pard  's  I 
have.  He  ain't  so  might}^  scrumptious  lookin',  but  he's 
what  some  folks  calls  a  '  singed  cat' — he's  a  heap  better  'n 
he  looks.  I  couldn't  git  'long  'thout  Shorty,  nohow.  An' 
the  best  thing  'bout  him  is  he's  got  sand  'nuff  fer  him  and 
me  both." 

''What  in  the  world  do  soldiers  want  to  carry  sand 
for?"  asked  Maria.     "I  should  think  they'd  have  loatl 


CONCERNING   ''SAND.  *  537 

enough  without  that,  an'  I  can't  see  what  good  it  can  do 
em. 

*'0h,  I  don't  mean 't  Shorty  er  any  o'  the  bo^^s  lugs 
gravel  round  with  'em  all  the  time,"  said  Si,  amused  at 
his  sister's  literal  interpretation.  '^It's  jest  a  way  we 
has  o'  talkin'  in  the  army.  P'r'aps  you  d caW  it  'nerve'  er 
^spunk'  er  'grit,'  but  we  calls  it  'sand,'  'n'  I  don't  b'lieve 
there's  any  place  in  the  wide  world  where  a  feller  needs  so 
much  on  it,  'n'  fust  quality,  too,  's  in  the  army.  When  the 
boys  says  a  feller  hain't  got  no  sand,  that  means  he's  no 
'count.  Now  I  guess  ye  understand  what  'sand '  is,  don't 
ye?" 

Maria  readily  admitted  that  his  explanation  was  clear 
and  ample. 

"Si,"  said  his  mother — and  a  tear  glistened  in  her  eye  as 
she  looked  into  his  face,  with  maternal  love  and  pride — 
"I'm  glad  jouWe  got  what  you  call  'sand.'  I  shouldn't 
like  to  have  ye  one  of  the  other  kind  ye  was  tellin'  'bout." 

"Well,  mother,  I  jest  had  to  have  it,  'cause  I  wasn'1? 
goin'  ter  do  nothin'  't  'd  make  ye  'shamed  o'  me.  I've  had 
^nuff  ter  last  me  this  fur,  but  I  tell  ye  it  purty  nigh  gi'n 
out  sometimes.  'Tain't  safe  ter  brag  an 3%  fer  I've  seen  fel- 
lers 't  you'd  think  to  hear  'em  talk  they  had  sand  'nuff 
ter  stock  up  a  hull  rijiment ;  'n'  when  it  come  ter  the  pinch 
they  didn't  have  no  more  'n  ther'  is  in  the  gizzard  of  a 
chicken  what's  jest  hatched.  Ye  can't  most  always  tell 
t'll  ye  see  a  man  in  a  tight  place.  Mebbe  my  sand  '11  run 
out  some  day,  but  I  don't  b'lieve  'twill.  If  it  does  it'll 
be  time  fer  Si  Klegg  ter  turn  up  his  toes." 

When  Si  had  eaten  all  he  could  hold,  his  mother  and  sister 
gave  their  attention  to  his  arm.  As  they  unwound  the 
bandages  with  gentle  fingers  and  disclosed  the  ugly  gap 
that  had  been  torn  in  the  flesh  by  the  cruel  missile,  the 
tenderest  and  most  emphatic  expressions  of  sympathy 
and  commiseration  escaped  from  their  lips.  They  were 
unanimous  in  the  opinion  that  it  was  "awful.'* 


538  CARRYING  THE  NEWS  TO  ANNIE. 

''Fiddlesticks!"  said  Si,  "that  ain't nothin'  't  all— jest  « 
mere  scratch— compared  ter  what  hunderds  o'  the  boys- 
got.  If  you'd  been  where  I  was  the  night  arter  the  fight 
you'd  ha'  thought  I  was  mightylucky  ter  git  off  with  that, 
sayin'  nothin'  'bout  all  them  that  was  killed.'' 

While  they  washed  and  dressed  his  wound,  ^  drew  a 
graphic  picture  of  the  scenes  he  had  witnessed  at  the  field 
hospital.  They  had  read  of  such  things  in  the  newspapers, 
but  they  had  never  seemed  real  to  them  before.  There 
were  many  involuntary  shudderings  and  exclamations  of 
horror  during  the  recital. 

Si's  wound  was  already  beginning  to  heal,  and  his 
healthy  condition  was  favorable  to  speedy  recovery. 

''That's  fust  rate!"  he  said,  after  his  arm  was  nicelj 
wrapped  in  clean,  white  bandages.  "I  wish  the  poor  boys 
a-sufferin'  down  there  had  's  good  nusses  as  you  be.  I 
want  ye  ter  do  yer  level  best  on  me  'n'  git  me  cured  up  so 
I  kin  go  back.     My  musket  's  waitin'  fer  me." 

His  mother  and  sister  looked  sadly  at  each  other,  but 
made  no  repl3^ 

"Si,"  said  Maria,  after  she  had  assisted  her  mother  to 
clear  away  the  "things,"  "I'm  goin'  to  run  over  and  tell 
Annie  that  you've  come,  ^  and  that  I  guess  you'll  call 
'round  this  evening.  She'll  be  most  as  glad  to  see  ye  as  I 
was." 

"D'ye  reely  mean  that,  Marier?"  and  the  rich  color 
mantled  Si's  brown  cheek  as  he  spoke. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  replied  Maria.  "I  thought  her  poor 
little  heart  was  clean  broke  when  the  awful  news  came 
that  you  was  killed.  You  jest  wait  and  see.  Si— if  yoa 
can  muster  up  courage  enough  to  go  over  there." 

"I  was  thinkin'— that  is— I  mean— I  was  goin'  ter  ax  ye 
'bout  her,  soon's  I  got  a  chance,"  and  Si's  face  kept  grow- 
ing redder. 

"What  a  goosey  you  are,  to  be  sure,"  said  his  sister, 
roguishly.     ''Ain't  you  a  brave  soldier,  talkin'  so  mucb- 


COMFORTING  ASSURANCES.  539 

about  'sand'  an'  chargin'  batteries  an'  capturin'  flags, 
an'  ye  dassent  go  to  see  a  pretty  little  girl  like  Annabel !" 

Si  did  not  reply  to  this  sally,  for  he  was  painfully  con- 
scious that  what  she  said  was  true.  He  felt  that  it  would 
take  more  ''sand  "  to  go  and  see  Annie  than  it  did  to  carry 
the  colors  of  the  200th  Indiana  up  the  blazing  ridge. 

''You  may  tell— Annie— that  I'll  be  'round  this  evenin'!" 
he  said  at  length. 

Then  he  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out  back  of  the  house 
to  think.  He  wanted,  more  than  an^-thing  else  in  the 
world,  to  go  right  along  with  Maria.  If  the  house  of  An- 
nabel's father  had  been  full  of  armed  rebels,  he  would  not 
have  hesitated  a  moment ;  as  it  was,  he  concluded  to  wait 
till  the  friendly  darkness  would  cover  his  movements.  If 
he  should  go  now  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world  would  be 
upon  him. 

Si  watched  eagerly  for  his  sister's  return,  though  it  was, 
of  course,  wholly  accidental  that  he  happened  to  be  stand- 
ing at  the  front  gate  when  she  came. 

"What  did — she  say  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  ain't  goin'  to  tell  you  nothin'  'bout  it,"  she  replied. 
*' It  spiles  such  things  to  have  'em  go  drizzlin'  at  second- 
hand from  somebody  else's  tongue.  She  ain't  half  as  Yraid 
of  you.  Si,  as  you  be  of  her.  She  tried  to  hide  from  me 
the  tears  that  come  into  her  e3^es  when  I  told  her  you  was 
here.  Now  don't  keep  askin'  questions,  for  I  shan't  tell  ye 
no  more,  only  jest  that  ye  needn't  be  nowaj's  afeard  that 
ye'll  find  yerself  locked  out  when  ye  go  there." 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day  Si  strolled  over  the  farm 
and  talked  with  his  father,  who  was  busy  in  bringing  up 
the  arrears  of  his  work. 

' '  It's  precious  little  I'  ve  done  fer  nigh  a  week, ' '  said  Farmer 
Klegg,  "'cept  drivin'  to  town  arter  news,  an'  things  is 
badly  behind.  I  reck'n  it's  purty  much  the  same  with 
a  good  many  o'  the  neighbors  that  has  boys  in  Com- 
pany Q." 


540  A  HAPPY  MEETING. 

''Wish  't  I  c'd  help  ye,  father,"  said  Si,  ''but  I  can't  arn 
my  board  jest  now." 

"Si,"  replied  his  father,  "all  I  want  o' you  is  jest  to  stan' 
'round  where  I  can  look  at  ye.  It's  a  powerful  blessin'  to 
these  old  eyes  o'  mine!" 

In  the  few  hours  since  his  return,  Si  had  come  to  realize, 
more  than  during  all  the  long  months  of  his  absence,  how 
tender  the  affection  and  solicitude,  how^  grievous  the  cor- 
roding anxiety,  of  those  who  watched  and  waited  and 
prayed  at  home. 

After  supper  Si  fixed  himself  up,  with  the  help  of  his  sis' 
ter,  put  on  his  hat  and  w^ent  out.  No  one  asked  him  where 
he  was  going,  but  his  mother  and  Maria  exchanged  smiles 
as  he  remarked,  with  averted  face,  that  he  wouldn't  be 
gone  a  great  w^hile. 

His  heart  beat  furiously  as  he  drew  near  to  the  house 
where  Annabel  lived.  Perhaps  its  unusual  agitation  w^as 
due  to  his  rapid  walk  to  get  there.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he 
found  it  necessary  to  pause  a  moment  and  make  an  effort 
to  compose  himself  Then  he  rapped  timidly  on  the 
door,  as  if  he  were  afraid  of  alarming  the  whole  commu- 
nity. In  fact,  like  Poe's  fantastic  raven,  "so  gently  he 
came  tapping"  that  neither  the  good  farmer,  who  sat 
reading  aloud  the  latest  war  news,  nor  his  wife,  who  was 
listening  while  she  mended  the  family  hose,  heard  it.  Old 
people  do  not  always  hear  very  well. 

But  there  was  one  whose  quick  ears  caught  the  sound, 
just  as  though  they  had  been  listening  for  it.  As  Annabel 
rose  to  answer  the  summons,  her  heart  was  galloping  not 
less  rapidly  than  was  the  one  beneath  the  blouse  of  the 
young  soldier  standing  without — and  she  had  not  been 
doing  anythingthat  might  cause  such  vigorous  pulsations. 
Very  softly  she  lifted  the  latch  and  opened  the  door. 

"Si!" 

"Annie!'' 

There  was  no  need  for  elaborate  phrases  of  greeting. 


THE  CURRENT  RUNS  SMOOTHLY.  54«1 

A  whole  lexicon  could  not  have  expressed  more.  Obeying 
her  first  impulse  she  threw  her  soft,  round  arms  about  his 
neck,  while  he  made  most  efficient  use  of  the  one  arm  at 
his  command.  At  no  time  since  his  hurt  had  he  felt  so 
sorely  the  need  of  two  good  ones.  But  then,  if  he  had  not 
been  wounded  he  would  not  have  had  the  privilege  of  see= 
ing  Annabel,  and  half  of  such  a  loaf  was  a  good  deal  better 
than  no  bread  at  all.    So  he  was  comforted. 

Up  to  this  time  the  interview  had  been  so  much  in  the 
nature  of  a  pantomime  that  Annabel's  father  and  mother 
did  not  know  that  it  was  going  on.  The  farmer  read  on 
and  his  wife  stitched  away  with  her  darning. 

An  instant  later  there  was  a  sound  that  the  farmer  and 
his  wife  did  hear.  Si,  in  his  ardor,  did  not  properly  gauge 
the  smack  he  bestowed  upon  the  girl  who  was  trembling 
in  his  embrace.  It  made  the  farmer  drop  his  paper,  and 
his  wife  start  so  that  she  pierced  her  finger  with  the  needle. 
Both  greeted  Si  with  effusive  cordiality. 

Fully  aware  of  the  childish  partiality  of  Si  and  Annabel 
for  each  other,  they  had  naturally  watched  his  conduct 
in  the  army  with  something  more  than  a  mere  neighborly 
interest.  He  had  often  been  the  subject  of  conversation, 
and  Annabel  knew  that  the  faultless  manner  in  which  he 
had  acquitted  himself  had  won  for  him  a  warm  place  in 
their  hearts.  Nor  did  they  seek  to  repress  her  growing 
fondness  for  a  lad  who  had  passed  so  honorably  through 
the  fiercest  test  of  true  manliness.  Under  these  favoring 
influences  the  coy  sensitivenes^Swhich  she  felt  at  first  had 
been,  in  ameasure,  gradually  dissipated.  So  it  was  that  at 
this  time  the  presence  of  the  * '  old  folks  " — usually  considered 
a  discouraging  feature  of  such  an  occasion — caused  no 
embarrassment  to  Annabel;  while  the  warmth  of  his 
reception  at  once  put  Si  at  his  ease. 

For  an  hour  his  tongue  was  kept  busy  answering  the 
multitude  of  questions  from  the  farmer  and  his  wife  about 
the  great  battle,  the  neighborhood  boys  in  Company  Q, 


542  si's  pluck. 

his  wound,  and  his  soldier  life  in  general.  There  was  novr 
and  then  a  word  from  Annabel,  though  she  was  mostly- 
content  to  sit  and  listen.  Si  was  supremely  happy  in 
the  sunshine  of  her  presence.  Between  their  eyes  there 
seemed  to  be  a  telegraphic  communication,  the  result  of 
which  was  mutually  satisfying. 

''I  s'pose  ye  won't  go  back  to  the  army,  now  ye've  got 
hurt  so  bad,"  said  her  father.  Annabel  glanced  quickly 
at  him,  as  if  to  read  his  answer  before  it  was  uttered. 

"Of  course  I  will,"  he  replied,  '"n'  I  shan't  be  a  great 
w^hile  gittin'  over  this  pin  scratch.  As  long  's  ther'  is  any 
Company  Q  I'm  goin'  ter  stay  with  the  boy^s,  'nlessl  ketch 
it  a  good  deal  wuss  'n  this  I ' ' 

Annabel's  eyes  dropped  to  the  floor,  for  the  thought  of  his 
plunging  again  into  battle  was  painful  to  her.  She  could 
not  but  admire  his  pluck,  however,  and  his  spirited  answer 
raised  him  another  peg  in  the  estimation  of  her  parents. 

When  Si  said  he  ''guessed  it  was  time  for  him  to  go"  the 
farmer  and  his  wife  expressed  the  hope  that  they  might 
see  him  often  during  his  stay,  and  he  mentally  resolved  that 
this  hope  should  not  be  disappointed. 


.CHAPTER  XL. 

Si  Gets  a  Big  Letter  From  th^Goyernor,  Answers  it,  and  Rejoins 

His  Regiment. 

FOR  days  Si  was  besieged  by  those  who  wished  to  in- 
quire after  their  friends  in  Company  Q.  There  were 
some  sad  interviews,  as  he  told  of  one  that  was  killed  and 
another  that  was  wounded  in  the  battle.  One  of  the  first 
to  call  was  the  neighbor  who  brought  the  news  that  day 
to  Mr.  Klegg,  and  whose  son  Tom  died  of  his  wounds  at 
the  field  hospital.    Si  had  carefully  brought  home  the  ar- 


mother's  pretty  quilt.  543 

tides  Tom  intrusted  to  his  care,  and  delivered  them  to  the 
heart-broken  father.  In  reply  to  the  latter's  inquiries,  Si 
described  the  death  scene  in  a  simple,  earnest  way  that 
brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  all  who  heard  it. 

Si's  furlough  was  for  thirty  days,  with  an  assurance 
that  it  would  be  extended  if  he  was  not  able  to  return  to 
duty  at  the  expiration  of  that  time.  Although  the  days 
passed  like  a  happy  dream,  before  the  time  was  half  gone 
he  began  to  grow  impatient.  His  arm  was  doing  nicely, 
but  the  healing  process,  necessarily  slow,  was  by  no  means 
fast  enough  for  him.  Every  time  his  wound  was  dressed 
he  examined  it  with  a  critical  eye,  and  calculated  the 
chances  on  his  being  able  to  start  back  at  the  end  of  his 
thirty  days.  He  finally  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would 
go,  whether  his  arm  was  well  or  not.  He  was  sure  that 
lie  could  make  himself  useful  at  the  front  in  some  way, 
and  he  longed  to  be  once  more  in  his  place  among  his 
comrades. 

''Si,"  said  his  mother  one  day,  as  he  sat  eating  a  freshly- 
baked  mince-pie,  '*ye  can't  think  what  a  comfort  it 's  been 
i:o  me  to  think  of  yer  havin'  that  nice  warm  quilt  I  gave 
ye  when  ye  went  away.  There  hasn't  been  a  single  night 
when  it  was  cold  an'  stormy  that  it  hain't  come  to  my 
mind  what  a  blessin'  to  ye  it  was  that  ye  had  it.  I  reck'n 
ye've  slep'  a  good  deal  comfortabler  than  the  poor  fellows 
Ihat  don't  have  nothin'but  their  army  blankets — an'  some 
o'  them,  I  hear,  is  awful  shoddy.  I  s'pose  there's  lots  o' 
the  soldiers  that  hasn't  got  'ihothers  to  give  'em  warm 
quilts." 

Si  was  in  a  tight  place  and  did  not  know  what  to  say. 
He  had  often  thought  of  that  quilt,  since  it  met  its  cruel 
fate  at  one  of  the  halts  during  the  first  day's  march. 
Whenever  he  recalled  the  circumstance  it  caused  a  shock 
to  his  feelings  to  think  how  glad  he  was  to  get  rid  of 
it,  to  ease  his  aching  shoulders ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  he  had  never  had  the  courage  to  tell  hi* 


544  SI  MAKES  A   CLEAN  BREAST   OF  IT. 

mother,  in  an}'  of  his  letters,  what  had  become  of  it.  He 
was  sure  that  if  he  did  she  would  never  forgive  him.  Now 
he  was  in  a  sad  quandary.  Something  had  to  be  said,  and 
he  racked  his  brain  to  find  a  way  out  of  the  woods.  As 
he  did  not  reply  with  his  usual  readiness  his  mother  ven^ 
tured  the  remark  that  maybe  it  was  getting  pretty  v^ell 
used  up  b}^  this  time.  Si  was  quick  to  make  the  most  of 
the  opportunity^  thus  offered,  and  he  promptly  answered 
that  he  believed  it  was  "  about  gone  up." 

''Well,  it's  all  right,"  said  his  mother.  ''I  was  hopin'  ye 
might  bring  it  home  with  ye  when  ye  was  through  sol- 
dierin',  for  I  worked  man\^  an  hour  to  make  it,  but  I  don't 
care  if  ye've  wore  it  out,  seein'  it's  done  ye  so  muck 
good.*' 

Then  Si  concluded  he  had  better  tell  her  the  whole  story. 
While  he  was  about  it  he  told  her  what  became  of  most  of 
the  other  pretty  things  with  which  they  equipped  him  for 
the  war. 

''I  tell  ye  what,  mother,"  he  said,  "it  went  mightily 
agin  the  grain  ter  do  it,  but  'f  I  hadn't  I'd  ha'  been  dead 
long  ago.  I'd  jest  like  to  seen  j^ou  tryin  ter  tote  the  load 
't  I  did.  No,  I  don't  mean  that,  nuther,  fer  I  wouldn't 
fer  the  world  have  ye  suffer. 's  I  did  that  fust  day  we 
marched.  My  knapsack  seemed  like  't  was  's  big  'n'  's 
heavy  's  a  load  o'  ha}^  'n'  my  gun  like  a  saw-log,  'n'  the 
catridge-box'n' canteen 'n' haversack  all  a-pullin'  'n'  grind- 
in',  'n'  me  a-sweatin'  t'll  1  was  's  wet  's  a  drownded  rat, 
'n'  every  bone  'n  my  body  achin',  'n'  my  feet  all  kivered 
with  big  blisters— I  tell  ye,  mother,  ef  it  had  been  you,  you 
'd  ha'  flung  them  traps  away  long  'fore  I  did.  I  stuck  to 
'em  's  long  's  I  could,  'n'  Shorty  all  the  time  a-tellin'  me  to 
git  shet  of  'em." 

Si's  mother  listened  with  some  surprise.  She  had  read 
about  the  suffering  of  the  soldiers  on  the  march,  but  she 
had  never  realized  it  before.  Si  had  said  very  little  about  it 
in  his  brief  and  rather  infrequent  letters,  for  he  wished  to 


"not  any  more,  thank  you!'*  545 

avoid  increasing  his  mother's  solicitude  by  letting   her 
know  what  hardships  they  were  compelled  to  endure. 

"Well,  I  declare,"  she  exclaimed,  "how  foolish  we  was, 
and  didn't  know  it !  We  thought  them  things  was  jest 
what  ye  wanted.  Of  course  ye  did  right,  Si.  Ye  oughtn't 
to  tried  to  carry  'em  at  all.  I'm  glad  ye  told  me,  'cause  I 
was  gettin'  a  lot  more  things  ready  for  ye  when  ye  go 
back— which  Heaven  knows  I  wish  ye  didn't  have  to— an' 
now  I  'low  ye  won't  want  'em." 

"No,  mother!  I'm  ever  so  much  'bleeged  to  ye,  but  a 
soldier  's  better  off 'f  he  hain't  got  but  mighty  little  'sides 
what  the  guvyment  gives  him.  We  thought  we  kno wed  it 
all,  but  it  didn't  take  long  ter  find,  out  't  we  didn't  know 
nothin'.  We  don't  mind  the  marchin'  now,  fer  we've  got 
broke  in— 'ceptin'  once  'n  a  while  when  they  crowds  us 
extry  hard— but  ye'll  have  ter  'xcuse  me  f'mtryin' ter  make 
a  pack-mule  o'  myself  ag'in.  I  b'lieve  I  know  when  I've 
got  'nuff.  I  guess  I  ought  ter  have  a  new  fine-tooth 
comb,  but  I  don't  think  o'  nothin'  else." 

Si  was  a  little  more  diplomatic  in  explaining  these  things 
to  Annabel.    In  fact  he  had  hung  on  to  the  keepsakes  she 
had  given  him  with  a  tenacity  that  was  the  strongest  pos- 
sible evidence  of  his  regard  for  her.    One  by  one  they  had 
succumbed  to  the  inevitable,  and  through  the  accidents  of 
campaigning  had  gone  to  swell  the  long  list  of  casualties. 
All  he  had  left  was  the  locket  he  wore  around  his  neck. 
This  had  escaped  the  general  wreck,  though  in  a  badly  tar- 
nished and  battered  condition.   The  slippers  he  had  carried 
for  months,  braving  the  rude  jests  and  gibes  which  they 
never  failed  to  elicit  from  his  comrades.    They  were  like  a 
poultice  to  his  feet  after  a  day's  march,  though  there  was 
usually  so  much  camp  duty  to  be  done  that  it  was  only 
now  and  then  that  he  had  a  chance  to  put  them  on.    One 
evening  he  went  to  sleep  with  his  feet  so  close  to  the  fire  that 
the  heat  warped  and  twisted  the  soles  into  wrinkles  and 
•corched  the  uppers  so  that  they  were  no  longer  either  u^- 


546  THE  FATE  OF  THE  BIG  KNIFE. 

ftil  or  ornamental.  This  catastrophe  was  very  depressing 
to  Si,  but  time  gradually  softened  the  poignancy  of  his 
grief.  In  one  of  his  interyiews  with  Annabel  he  told  her 
how  much  her  kind  remembrances  had  done  to  assuage  the 
sorrows  and  discomforts  of  army  life.  She  thought  the 
slippers  must  be  about  worn  out,  and  said  she  would 
make  a  new  pair  for  him,  but  he  tenderly  dissuaded  her  by 
the  assurance  that  he  wouldn't  need  any  more. 

One  day  Si's  old  Sunday-school  teacher,  who  armed  him 
with  the  big  knife,  called  to  see  him.  This  excellent  man 
had  an  idea  that  the  brilliant  individual  record  his  former 
pupil  had  made— of  which  he  was  so  proud— and  the  halo 
of  glory  that  surrounded  the  name  of  the  200th  Indiana, 
were  chiefly  due  to  the  ghastly  havoc  of  that  devastating 
weapon,  as  Si  hewed  his  way  toward  the  heart  of  the  South- 
ern Confederacy.  He  asked  Si  about  it,  and  the  answer  he 
received  caused  him  great  heaviness  of  heart.  Si  told 
him  frankly  that  the  knife  had  not  created  any  need  of 
orphan  asylums,  nor  made  any  women  widows.  It  had 
not  been  without  its  uses  in  camp.  It  was  a  good  thing  to 
chop  off  the  heads  of  confiscated  chickens,  and  did  general 
utility  service  as  a  butcher-knife  until  its  edge  was  gone. 
Then  its  usefulness  waned,  as  grindstones  were  not  issued 
to  the  army.  Finally  he  broke  it  while  trying  to  pry  open 
a  sugar  barrel,  one  dark  night  when  he  was  on  guard  over 
a  pile  of  commissary  stores.  Thus  ended  the  picturesque 
romance  of  that  knife,  as  an  implement  for  the  rapid  extir- 
pation of  the  human  race. 

Kind-hearted  old  ladies  from  all  the  region  round  about 
called  at  the  Klegg  farmhouse.  Not  one  of  them  would  be 
satisfied  until  she  had  seen  Si's  sore  arm,  and  the  pro- 
foundly sympathetic  *'m-m-m's"  and  *'a-a-ah's"  made 
him  laugh  in  spite  of  himself.  They  wanted  to  see  how  a 
wound  looked.  Each  of  them  suggested  a  healing  emol- 
lient that  always  ''worked  like  a  charm,"  and  could  not 
fail  to  "bring  him  'round  "  in  short  order.    No  two  of  these 


A  CONFLICT  OF  DOCTOlRS.  547 

remedial  prescriptions  were  alike,  but  each  was  a  sovereiga 
balm,  better  than  anything  in  the  materia  medica  of  the 
doctors.  The  faith  of  these  noble  women  in  the  efficacy 
of  their  respective  remedies  was  unbounded,  based  upon 
forty  or  fifty  years  of  domestic  experience.  Si  was  so 
anxious  to  get  well  that  he  wanted  Nature  supplied  with 
all  possible  accessories  that  might  aid  her  in  the  work  of 
restoration. 

One  of  these  good  Samaritans  extolled  the  virtues  of 
"goose-grease" — it  was  ''powerful  soothin'."  She'd  send 
Betsey  over  with  a  bottle,  right  away.  Si's  arm  was 
copiously  anointed  with  it,  and  the  next  morning  he  said 
he  believed  it  was  a  good  thing. 

Then  came  another  matron  who  inquired  with  the  ten- 
derest  solicitude  what  he  v^as  doing  for  his  wound.  When 
informed  of  the  application  that  was  being  made  she  held 
up  her  hands  in  astonishment. 

''The  very  wust  thing  ye  could  put  on  it,"  she  exclaimed. 
''I  know  who  'twas  reckimended  that  stuff;  it  was  Wid- 
der  Pottleby.  She  uses  goose-grease  fer  everything,  from 
headache  down  to  a  stubbed  toe.  When  folks  gits  well  in 
spite  of  it  she  thinks  it's  that  as  does  it.  The  best  eint- 
ment  in  the  world  is  mutton  taller  from  a  Southdow^n. 
lamb  killed  at  the  full  o'  the  moon,  mixed  ekal  parts  with 
cream  from  a  three-year-old  Alderney  heifer.  I've  been 
experimentin'  with  all  the  different  kinds  o'  sheep  an'  cattle 
an'  these  mixes  the  best.  I  jest  made  up  a  fresh  lot  t'other 
day  an'  I'll  send  ye  some." 

Then  the  goose-grease  was  carefully  rubbed  off  andT:he 
new  unguent  was  applied,  only  to  give  place,  the  next  day, 
to  some  other  homely  specific.  Every  known  variety  of 
salve,  ointment,  "ile,"  poultice,  plaster,  liniment  and  cata- 
plasm was  urged,  and,  as  the  result  of  this  universal  sym- 
pathy, the  mantels  and  window-sills  of  the  house  were  cov- 
ered with  bottles  and  boxes,  enough  to  stock  a  brigade 
hospital.    Si's  faith  in  them  was  badly  shaken  by  the  di^' 


548 


FEASTING  AND  FATTENING. 


agreements  of  the  numerous  woman-doctors,  and  at  length 
he  wisely  concluded  that  he  would  get  along  better  with- 
out any  of  them.  He  thought  his  arm  would  get  well 
quicker  ''itself,"  an  opinion  that  was  fully  justified  by 
the  outcome. 

During  the  whole  of  Si's  stay  there  was  unabated  activ- 
ity in  the  kitchen.  His  mother  and  sister  exerted  them- 
selves with  a  zeal  that  never  for  an  instant  flagged, 
to  satisfy  his  appetite  with  everything  that  their  combined 
skill  could  produce.  He  had  unrestricted  license  to  forage 
at  will  in  the  pantry  and  the  various  cupboards  which 
were  used  for  the  storage  of  pastry  and  delicacies.    It  is 

hardly  necessary  to  say 
that  he  made  the  most 
of  so  choice  an  oppor- 
tunity, and  as  a  result 
of  his  riotous  living  he 
fattened  rapidly,  fully 
recovering  from  the 
shrinkage  of  flesh  that 
-was  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  his  hard  field 
service. 

He  went  often  to  the 
village,    where    every- 
body   met    him    with 
warm  greetings.     The 
SI  AT  THE  CORNER  GROCERY.  blushing     maidcns 

smiled  sweetly  upon  him,  as  he  promenaded  the  streets, 
and  the  small  boys  regarded  him  as  a  more  conspicuous 
figure  in  the  world's  history  than  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  or 
Alexander  the  Great.  Whenever  he  dropped  into  the  comer 
grocery  he  was  compelled  to  tell,  over  and  over  again,  the 
story  of  the  battle,  for  the  edification  of  the  loungers  who 
sat  around  on  the  barrels  and  crippled  chairs.  The  grocery 
was  the  village  ** clearing-house"  for  news  of  all  kinds. 


AN  IMPORTANT  LETTER  FOR  SI.  549 

Here  weighty  problems  of  war  and  statesmanship  were 
solved,  brilliant  campaigns  carried  on,  fierce  battles  fought 
over,  and  unmistakable  conclusions  reached  as  to  how  the 
war  ought  to  be  conducted.  The  listener  could  riot  but 
realize  what  the  countr^^  had  suffered  because  these  rustic 
patriots  had  not  been  chosen  to  lead  the  impatient  armies, 
and  pilot  the  ship  of  state  over  the  tempestuous  sea. 

Si  and  Annabel  got  on  famously.  He  was  a  frequent 
visitor,  basking  in  the  smiles  of  the  red-cheeked  lass. 
Although  no  word  passed  between  them  on  the  subject,  it 
required  no  extraordinary  gift  of  prophec}^  to  foretell  that 
by  and  by,  when  the  cruel  war  was  over,  the  parson  would 
be  called  in. 

A  day  or  two  before  Si  left  for  the  front  there  came  to 
the  post-office  an  envelope  about  a  foot  long,  addressed  in 
a  large,  bold  hand,  ''Lieutenant  Josiah  Klegg."  The  post- 
mark showed  that  it  was  from  the  capital  of  the  state. 
The  village  postmaster  served  as  a  kind  of  substitute  for  a 
daily  newspaper.  He  was  the  great  disseminator  of  neigh- 
borhood news  and  gossip,  much  of  which  he  obtained  by 
guessing  at  the  contents  of  the  letters  that  passed  through 
his  hands.  All  these  he  examined  and  speculated  upon  with 
a  skill  only  acquired  by  long  practice.  Si's  big  letter,  with 
its  impressive  superscription,  riveted  his  attention,  and 
before  it  was  called  for  half  the  people  in  the  village  knew 
all  about  it. 

Si  drove  into  town  that  day,  and  the  first  person  he  met 
told  him  there  w^as  an  important  letter  at  the  post-office 
for  him.  Before  he  reached  the  office  half  a  dozen  others 
had  imparted  the  same  information. 

''Hello,  Lieutenant,"  said  the  smiling  postmaster,  as  Si 
appeared  at  the  threshold,  "I've  got  a  letter  for  you." 

"That's  what  everybody's  been  a-tellin'  me,"  said  Si. 
"  But  what  ye  talkin'  that  way  ter  me  fer  ?  I  ain't  no  lef- 
tenant!" 

"I  have  an  idea  that  the  man  who  wrote  your  letter 


550 


LIEUTENANT  JOSIAH  KLEGG. 


knows  more  about  that  than  you  do,  Si.  Of  course  I  don't 
know  what's  in  it,  but  folks  think  I'm  pretty  good  at 
guessin'.    I  'low  it  's  from  the  governor." 

With  feelings  of  mingled  awe  and  bewilderment  Si  took 
the  ponderous  missive.  He  turned  it  over  and  over,  won- 
dering what  its  contents  could  be.  He  was  a  little  piqued 
at  the  burning  impatience  of  the  postmaster  to  have  him 
open  it,  and  intimated  that  it  was  his  letter,  and  he  would 
wait  until  he  was  ready.  When  his  agitation  had  sub- 
sided he  went  out  into  the  adjacent  wagon-shed,  and  after 
^^        "  assuring    himself    that 

no  one  was  looking  at 
him,  he  carefully  tore 
open  the  envelope.  With 
trembling  fingers  he 
drew  out  an  imposing 
document,  with  a  big 
red  seal  and  bearing  the 
signature  of  the  gover- 
nor. He  read  with 
amazement  that  Josiah 
Klegg  had  been  ap- 
I  pointed  a  second  lieu- 
tenant in  the  200th 
Indiana.  Accompany- 
A  LETTER  FROM  THE  GOVERNOR.  ing  it  was  a  pcrsoual 
letter  in  which  the  governor  told  him  that  he  had  been 
promoted  in  recognition  of  his  conspicuous  gallantry 
in  the  recent  battle,  which  had  been  so  honorable  to  him- 
self, his  regiment  and  his  state. 

Impelled  by  curiosity  the  postmaster  hunted  up  Si  and 

found  him  in  a  half  dazed  condition,  scratching  his  head 

and  trying  to  comprehend  it  all. 

"Well,  Si,''  he  said,  "didn't  I  guess  it  about  right?" 

"I'm  jest  teetotally  flabbergasted,"   replied  Si.    "Ef  I 

kwowed  of  any  other  Josier  Klegg  I  sh'd  think  it  meant 


HE  couldn't  go  back  ON  SHORTY.        551 

him,  but  'pears   's  though  I'm  the  feller  the  guv'ner  's 
after." 

*'Let  me  be  the  first  to  congratulate  you,  Si— excuse  me, 
I  mean  Lieutenant  Klegg,"  said  the  postmaster.  *'You 
have  nobly  earned  your  promotion  and  we  are  all  proud 
of  you.  I'm  going  to  start  a  subscription  to  buy  you  a 
sword." 

But  Si  was  already  off  and  scarcely  heard  the  old  gentle- 
man's words.  He  was  thinking  only  of  the  good  people  at 
home  and  how  glad  they  would  be  to  learn  the  news.  It 
sounded  strangely  to  hear  people  whom  he  met  address  him 
as  ''Lieutenant"— for  the  gossip  of  the  postmaster  had 
come  to  be  universally  believed. 

Si  drove  rapidly  homeward.  All  the  way  he  was  think- 
ing of  his  promotion— as  unexpected  to  him  as  would  have 
been  a  stroke  of  lightning.  How  nice  it  would  be  to  wear 
shoulder-straps,  and  swing  a  ''cheese-knife."  How  proud 
of  him  his  mother  and  sister  Maria  would  be,  and  how 
happy  he  hoped  it  would  make  Annabel.  Then  it  flashed 
across  his  mind  that  if  he  was  an  officer  he  could  not 
have  Shorty  for  his  *'pard"  any  longer,  and  that  out- 
weighed all  other  considerations.  He  wouldn't  be  an 
officer. 

Si's  face  flushed  with  pardonable  pride  as  he  unfolded 
the  commission  before  the  astonished  eyes  at  the  farm- 
house. His  declaration  that  he  would  not  accept  it  was 
received  with  the  greatest  surprise.  Maria  told  him  he  ought 
to  be  a  brigadier-general.  At  first  every  effort  was  made 
to  dissuade  him  from  declining  his  promotion,  but  with- 
out avail. 

"Well,"  said  his  mother,  at  length,  "Si  knows  best. 
It's  jest  as  much  honor  to'have  had  the  commission  sent  to 
him,  an'  if  he  don't  want  it  I  s'pose  he'll  have  to  send  it 
back." 

Si  sat  down  and  wrote  to  the  governor.  It  was  the 
most  momentous  under^akiikg  in  the  way  of  writing  a 


552  DECLINED,   WITH  THANKS. 

letter  he  had  ever  attempted.    After  a  dozen  fresh  starts 
he  succeeded  in  conve^dng  his  message.    He  wrote : 

Mr.  Guvner 

Deer  frend.  i  rite  these  few  lines  hopin  you  are  enjoyin  the 
blessins  of  good  helth.  i  wasent  expectin  a  letter  from  you  speshly  such 
a  kind  of  one  as  i  got  toda\^  Ime  ever  so  much  bleeged  to  3'e  Mr.  Guv- 
ner fer  sendin  me  that  commishn  but  i  very  respectively  incline.  In  the 
fust  place  i  aint  fit  to  be  no  ossifer  i  dont  no  enuff  cause  ime  jest  nothin 
but  a  boy  and  haint  never  had  much  larnin.  I  can  git  long  faster  puttin 
down  the  rebelyun,  that  is  helpin  do  it  yew  no  what  I  meen,  with  my 
muskit  than  i  can  with  a  sord.  Ive  got  used  to  my  gun  but  I  dont  no 
nothin  bout  a  sord  an  I  never  seen  a  sord  hurt  nobody  nuther.  Ef  the 
army  was  all  ossifers  thout  nobody  to  carry  muskits  the  war  wood- 
cnt  be  over  in  a  thowsan  years.  Course  we  needs  to  have  ossifers  an 
weve  got  some  bully  ones  in  the  200th  ridgment.  When  j^e  want  to 
make  a  new  lot  of  em  ye  wont  have  no  trubble  a  findin  plenty  thats 
bettern  me  an  they  wants  sholeder  straps  wussen  I  do.  But  I  haint  toled 
ye  the  biggest  reeson  why  i  send  ye  this  dockyment.  Its  cause  I  cant  go 
back  on  Shorty.  Mebbe  ye  dont  no  Shorty  but  hes  my  pard  an  hes  the 
boss  soljer.  Ef  ye  cood  make  him  fust  lewtenant  i  woodent  mind  bein 
seckond  an  then  we  cood  bunk  together  sames  we  alius  has.  Hes  nothin 
but  a  privit  so  i  spose  ye  cant  do  it  an  ide  ruther  be  jest  Corporil  Klegg 
cf  its  all  the  saim  to  you. 

Yer  umbel  sarvent 

Josiah  Klegg 

P  S  pleese  exkuse  bad  ritin  an  spellin. 

When  Si's  furlough  expired  his  wound  was  not  fully 
healed.  His  friends  had  urged  him  to  have  his  leave  re- 
newed but  he  was  impatient  to  return  and  would  not 
listen  to  their  advice.  Tearful  farewells  were  spoken,  and 
with  a  handful  of  trifling  remembrances — instead  of  the 
wheelbarrow^-load  with  which  he  started  out  before — he 
boarded  the  train  and  went  whirling  away.  He  was  not 
wholly  unincumbered,  however,  for  the  mothers  and  sisters 
of  his  company  comrades  had  intrusted  to  his  care  for 
them  many  tokens  of  affection ;  besides  surcharging  him, 
to  the  very  muzzle,  with  a  hundred  verbal  messages,  not 
one  in  ten  of  which  he  could  possibly  remember. 

When  Si  reached  the  camp  of  the  200th  Indiana,  sti^U 
carrying  his  arm  in  a  sling,  he  received  an  effusive  welcome. 


553 

"PVaps  I  can't  do  much  'th  my  gun  fer  a  while  yit,"  he 
tsaid  to  Shorty,  whom  he  was  overjoyed  to  meet,  *'but  I 
couldn't  Stan'  it  no  longer,  'n'  I  reck'n  I  kin  find  suthin  ter 
do.  Ef  we  git  inter  a  fight  I  kin  bite  catridges  's  fast  's 
half  a  dozen  on  ye  kin  shoot." 

After  they  had  gone  to  bed  that  night  Si  told  his  com- 
rade about  the  commission  he  had  received  from  the  gov* 
ernor. 

Shorty  threw  off  the  blanket  and  jumped  to  his  feet  with 
a  shout  of  delight. 

''Pard,"  he  said,  ''I'm  gladder  'n  I  kin  tell  ye,  'cause  I 
know  how  well  ye  desarve  it.  The  guv'ner's  head  was 
level  when  he  done  that.  I'll  be  mighty  proud  on  ye,  seein' 
ye  rigged  up  like  'n  ossifer.  I  s'pose  ye  got  a  gorjus  out- 
fit. Wh}^  didn't  ye  put  on  yer  leften  ant 'straps  so  the  boys 
could  see  ye  was  some  punkins  ?  " 

Si  knew  there  was  no  sham  in  Shorty's  words,  and  on 
his  account  almost  regretted  that  he  had  declined  the  pro- 
motion. 

''Shorty,"  he  said  after  a  moment,  "I'm  'feard  ye  won't 
like  it,  but  I  didn't  keep  the  commishn.  I  jest  sent  it  back 
ter  the  guv'ner." 

"What!"  exclaimed  his  pard  in  amazement.  "Sent  it 
back !    Ef  you  ain't  the  biggest — " 

"Hoi'  on,  pard,"  interrupted  Si.  "I  know  what  ye're 
goin'  ter  say.  Mebbe  I  am,  but  wait  t'll  ye  hear  the  hull 
thing.  It  was  jest  'cause  I  couldn't  go  back  on  you,  Shorty. 
I  knowed  I'd  have  ter  take  my  grub  'long  'th  ossifers  'n'  I 
couldn't  have  ye  fer  my  pard  no  more.  Seemed  ter  me  I 
wouldn't  'mount  ter  shucks  'thout  you,  'n'  that  settled  it. 
I  writ  the  guv'ner  't  ef  he'd  make  you  fust  leftenant  'n'  me 
second  I'd  call  it  a  go." 

"Si,"  said  Shorty,  after  giving  expression  to  his  s^urprisc 
in  a  long,  low  whistle,  "  I  kin  tell  ye  one  thing ;  ye  wouldn't 
ha'  sent  that  thing  back  ef  Fd  been  tharl  " 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

&  AND  Shorty  Re-enlist  and  go  Home  on  "Veteran  Furlough." 

(i  C^I>"  said  Shorty,  one  cold  night  in  January,  *'how 
v^^    d'  ye  feel  'bout  reinlistin'  fer  three  years  more?" 

The  200th  Indiana  was  along  way  from  its  base  of  sup- 
plies, engaged  in  an  arduous  campaign.  For  many  days 
the  soldiers  had  been  without  tents.  At  this  time  they 
were  bivouacking  in  the  woods,  with  no  shelter  save  sucii 
as  they  had  made  of  sticks,  boughs  of  pine  and  balsam, 
and  a  few  rails  and  boards  that  were  picked  up  by  scour- 
ing that  desolate  region.  It  was  snowing  heavily  and  the 
biting  blasts  of  midwinter  howled  among  the  trees.  The 
men  heaped  high  the  blazing  fires  and  hovered  closely 
around  them,  grimy  with  smoke  and  shivering  with  cold. 
It  was  a  wild,  rough  night,  that  made  a  soldier  think  of 
home  in  spite  of  himself. 

Si  was  standing  before  the  fire,  his  front  and  rear  freezing 
and  toasting  alternately  as  he  turned  himself  around  at 
frequent  intervals.  The  smoke,  whirled  about  in  every 
direction  by  the  wind,  caused  a  copious  and  involuntary 
shedding  of  tears,  and  steam  ascended  from  his  garments, 
wet  by  the  melting  snow.  It  may  be  doubted  whether 
his  mother  or  sister  Maria  or  even  Annabel  could  have 
identified  him,  in  that  dismal  group. 

"What's  that  yeVe  sayin'?"he  asked,  in  reply  to  Shorty's 
remark.  A  general  interest  in  the  subject  was  manifested 
by  his  comrades,  who  formed  a  circle  around  the  fire. 

554, 


A  SUBJECT  FOR  CONSIDERATION. 


555 


**I  was  only  axin*  ye,''  said  Shorty,  "how  ye'd  like  ter 
put  yer  name  down  'n'  be  swored  in  fer  three  years  longer 
o*  this  sort  o'  thing.  I  was  over  to  the  199th  Michigan 
this  atternoon  'n'  I  heerd  the  boys  say  the  guvyment 
wants  all  the  old  soljers  ter  reinlist.  I  reck'n  f 'm  the  way 
you  fellers  seems  ter  be  enj'yin'  yerselves  tonight  ye'll  all 
on  ye  jest  go  a-tumblin'  up  ter  the  'cruitin'  office — in  a 
horn." 

"What's  the  idee  o'  their  talkin'  that  way,"  said  Si,  '"s 
long  's  we've  got  a 
good  bit  ter  sarve 
yet  'fore  our  fust 
three  years  is  up? 
IshMthinkther"d' 
be  time  'nufF  then 
ter  talk 'bout  goin' 
in  ag'in." 

"I  dont  quite 
git  the  hang  o'  the 
scheme  myself,"  re- 
plied Shorty,  ''but 
's  near 's  I  c'd  make 
out  this  's  the  way 
on  't.  Ther'  don't- 
nobody  know  how; 
long  this  'ere  re- 
bellyun  's  goin'  ter 
last.   Don't  seem  's  ^  momentous  question. 

if  we'd  made  much  headway  yet  puttin'  on  it  down.  Looks 
's  if  the  war  wouldn't  quit  t'll  all  the  men 's  killed  off  'n'  ther' 
ain't  no  people  left  'cept  the  women.  Then  mebbe  they  '11 
pitch  in  'n'  keep  it  up.  'Twouldn't  be  s'prisin',  f 'm  the  way 
some  o'  the  secesh  women  talks  down  here.  They're  good 
at  fightin'  'th  their  chins.  But  ye  see  what  the  guvyment 
wants  is  ter  git  the  dead  wood  on  these  old  rijiments. 
Ye  know  most  o'  the  fellers  that's  left  in  *em  has  got  purty 


556  SHORTY'S  DISCOURSE. 

tollable  tough.  They  ain't  none  o'  yer  spring  chickens. 
They've  got  used  ter  the  arni}^  grub  'n'  the  hard  marchin* 
'n'  lyin'  'round  'n  the  mud  'n'  they  kin  stan'  it ;  'n'  when 
't  comes  ter  fightin'  most  on  'em  's  got  the  best  kind  o' 
grit.  'Sides  that  they've  got  the  hull  business  larned  'n' 
they  alius  knows  jest 's  well 's  the  gin'rals  what  's  got  ter 
be  did,  'n'  they  wades  right  in.  When  it  comes  ter  reel 
red-hot  campaignin',  a  hunnerd  sich  soljers  is  better  'n  five 
hunnerd  tenderfoots.  Ye  recolleck  't  we  wa'n't  good  fer 
much  that  fust  day  we  marched,  'n'  it's  jest  so  'th  all  on 
'em  when  they're  green.  It  takes  a  long  time  ter  make 
soljers  outen  such  fellers,  'n'  a  good  many  on  'em  dies  in 
the  makin'.  Now  't  the  guvyment  's  got  a  purty  fa'r  lot 
o'  the  fust-class  article  it  wants  ter  freeze  to  'em." 

''It's  bully  weather  fer  doin'  that!"  said  Si.  "I  guess 
them  big  ossifers  'n  Washington  'd  think  so  ef  they  was 
here  'bout  now." 

' '  Wall,  that's  the  idee, "  continued  Shorty.  ' '  Ther'  's  got 
ter  be  a  heap  o'  hard  fightin'  'fore  this  thing  's  over,  'n' 
they  want  soljers  't  they  kin  bet  on  every  time." 

The  members  of  Company  Q  had  listened  attentively  to 
Shorty's  remarks  on  the  situation.  The  subject  of  re-enlist- 
ing had  never  entered  their  heads  before.  The  time  and 
circumstances  did  not  seem  propitious  for  such  a  suggestion. 
Hardships  never  came  singly  in  the  army.  It  was  during 
the  trying  campaigns,  when  the  men  were  footsore  and 
weary,  bivouacking  without  tents  and  exposed  to  the  rigor 
of  the  storms  which  always  came  at  such  times,  that  ra- 
tions were  short  and  hunger  was  added  to  the  aggregation 
of  human  woes.  It  was  so  at  this  time  v\rith  the  200th 
Indiana;  and  as  the  men  stood  around  the  fires,  in  the  driv- 
ing snow,  wet,  shivering  and  famished,  it  would  have  been 
but  natural  if  they  had  felt  like  mobbing  a  man  who  should 
come  among  them  to  urge  them  to  re-enlist. 

Corporal  Kleggwas  the  first  to  speak,  as  Shorty  stopped 
to  breathe.     "Wall,  boys.''  he  said,  plowing  his  fists  into 


TWO  OF  A  KIND.  557 

hfs  eyes  and  ducking  his  head  to  escape  a  fresh  cloud  of 
smoke,  ''I  dunno  how  the  rest  on  ye  feels  'bout  re- 
inlistin',  but  ef  they  wants  me  ter  jine  ag  in  I'm  ready  ter 
doit." 

''I'd  go  with  ye,  Si,  ef  I  was  a  nat'ral  born  fool!"  said  a 
lank  Hoosier,  one  of  the  constitutional  grumblers  of  the 
company. 

"Look  a-here,  pard,  ye  don't  want  ter  go  to  insini- 
watin'  'round  like  that,  'cause  I  ain't  no  fool !  You  don't 
have  ter  reinlist  'cause  I  do.  I  hain't  axed  ye  ter  jine.  Ye 
kin  do  jest's  ye  likes,  but  when  I  tuk  a  gun  on  my  shoulder 
I  calkylated  ter  stay  t'll  arterthe  benediction.  I  neverwas 
in  the  habit  o'  goin'  out  t'll  meetin'  was  dismissed." 

''That's  all  right,  Si ;  ye  needn't  spunk  up  about  it.  If  ye 
want  three  years  more  o'  soljerin'  I  hain't  no  'bjections,  'n' 
'twouldn't  make  no  difference  'f  I  had.  But  I  b'lieve  I 
know  when  I've  got  enough,  'n'  by  the  time  my  threeyears 
is  up  I'll  be  's  full  's  I  kin  hold." 

"That's  my  ticket,"said  another.  "Theydon't  ketchme 
fer  any  more  o'  this.  I'm  goin'  ter  stay  's  "long  's  I  agreed 
ter,  'f  I  don't  git  killed,  'n'  then  I'm  goin'  ter  quit  'n'  give 
s'mother  feller  a  chance  ter  lug  my  traps  a  while.  The 
woods  up  in  Injianny  is  full  o'  men  't  hain't  'listed  yet,  'n* 
I'd  like  ter  see  'em  take  their  turn.  No,  I  thank  ye ;  I  don't 
want  no  more  on  it  'n  mine.  If  any  on  ye  reinlists't won't 
be  long  t'll  ye  '11  be  kickin'  yerselves  fer  doin'  it." 

And  so  the  talk  went  on.  At  first  it  seemed  that  Si  was 
the  only  member  of  Company  Q  who  was  willing  to  enlist 
for  another  term.  At  length  one  of  the  boys  asked  Shorty, 
who  had  taken  no  further  part  in  the  discussion,  what  he 
was  going  to  do  about  it. 

"Wall,"  he  replied,  ''it  don't  make  much  diff'runce  ter 
me.  I  hadn't  reely  made  up  my  mind  what  ter  do  t'll  I 
heerd  Si  say  he'd  reinlist,  'n'  that  settled  me.  I  ain't  goin' 
back  on  my  pard.  The  'cruitin  ossifer  'd  be  sartin  of  a 
pair  ef  he  sh'd  start  in  tonight.    I  didn't  quite  git  through 


558  NEW  FACTORS  IN  THE  CASE. 

tellin*  ye  'bout  the  business.  They  say  't  every  man  't 
remlists  Ml  git  a  bounty  of  four  hunnerd  dollars." 

*'How  much  did  ye  say?"  asked  Si,  opening  his  eyes  very 
wide. 

**Four  hurmerd  dollars !" 

''Jimmy,  but  that's  a  pile  o'  money— more  'n  I  ever  seed 
'n  my  life  to  oncet.  Lemme  see ;  that's  purty  nigh 's  much 
's  a  feller  gits  fer  three  years  o'  soljerin'.  I  s'pose  they  keeps 
payin'  the  reg'lar  wages  jest  the  same?" 

''Course  they  does !"  replied  Shorty.  "  The  four  hunnerd 
•s  extry." 

This  information  gave  a  new  interest  to  the  subject,  and 
had  the  immediate  effect  to  modify  somewhat  the  general 
feeling.  A  disposition  was  manifested  to  at  least  give  the 
matter  a  fair  consideration. 

"It'll  be  kind  o'nice  ter  have  them  four  hunnerd  dollars!'* 
said  Si,  "but  I  tell  ye  what  'tis,  money  ain't  no  objick.  All 
the  gold  'n  Californy  wouldn't  hire  me  ter  go  through  three 
years  o'  this  thing,  same  's  I'd  hire  out  ter  hoe  corn  erchop 
wood."  Si  could  say  this  with  good  grace,  as  he  had  de- 
clared his  willingness  to  re-enlist  before  he  had  heard  any- 
thing of  the  bounty. 

"Right  ye  are, "said  one  of  his  comrades.  "Money  ain't 
much  account  to  a  feller  arter  he's  planted  two  foot  under 
ground ;  ner  it  don't  pay  fer  havin'  his  arms  'n'  legs  sawed 
oflf.  The  bounty  's  only  the  sugar  they're  coatin'  the  pill 
with  so  we  '11  swaller  it.  Fer  's  I'm  consamed  I'm  goin' 
ter  'pass.'" 

" Ther"s  jest  one  thing  more,  boys,"  said  Shorty,  after 
they  had  spent  some  time  in  discussing  the  financial  phase 
of  the  question.  "All  them  as  reinlists  gits  a  thirty-day 
furlough  right  away,  'n'  the  guvyment  takes  'em  home  'n' 
brings  'em  back  ag'in,  free  gratis.  I'll  miss  my  guess  'f  that 
don't  fetch  some  on  ye !" 

That  magic  word  "home"— how  it  thrilled  the  hearts  of 
those  war-worn  and  weather-beaten  soldiers !    The  ten* 


AN  EPIDEMIC  IN   COMPANY  Q.  559 

derest  chords  vibrated  at  its  touch.  Shorty  was  right  in 
his  surmise  that  this  would  "fetch"  many  of  them.  The 
thought  of  spending  a  whole  month  in  "God's  country," 
with  mothers  and  wives  and  sisters  and  sweethearts,  eat- 
ing three  "square,"  Christian  meals  a  day,  and  sleeping 
under  a  roof,  in  a  good  bed,  was  something  that  few  could 
withstand.  The  desire  to  re-enlist  at  once,  under  such 
conditions,  spread  through  Company  Q  like  the  measles. 
They  would  stand  by  the  old  flag  till  the  last  rebel  had 
laid  down  his  arms — of  course  they  would ! 

There  was  little  opportunity  for  sleep  that  night  in  the 
cheerless  quarters,  swept  by  the  wintry  blasts  and  half 
filled  with  the  drifting  snow.  Nowhere  except  close  to  the 
fires  could  be  found  the  slightest  approach  to  comfort. 
Far  into  the  slowly-creeping  hours  the  boys  shivered  and 
smoked  and  talked,  with  chattering  teeth,  about  going 
home,  and  what  they  would  have  to  eat  when  they  got 
there.  Before  they  turned  in  for  the  night  most  of  them 
had  reached  the  point  of  being  actually  afraid  the  chance 
to  re-enlist  would  not  be  offered  them.  There  were  still  a 
few  who  stoutly  resisted  the  blandishments  of  bounty  and 
furlough,  avowing  their  unalterable  determination  to 
repel  all  such  beguiling  influences,  which,  they  said,  were 
only  bait  to  catch  gudgeons.  They  did  not  propose  to 
bite  again,  for  they  knew  by  experience  how  keen  the  hook 
was. 

"Three  years  o'  this  kind  o'  sarvis,"said  one  of  them, 
"is  my  sheer.  When  all  the  chaps  that's  stayin'  to  hum 
has  done  that  much,  'n'  it  comes  my  turn  ag'in,  mebbe  I'll 
give  'er  another  whirl,  but  I  don't  want  no  more  on  it  this 
time,  ef  the  court  knows  herself,  and  she  thinks  she  does. 
Them's  my  sentiments,  'n'  I  don't  keer  who  knows  'em." 

"You  jest  wait  t'll  ye  see  Comp'nyQ  gittin'  ready  ter  go 
home,  'n'  ye  won't  feel  quite  socranky !  "  said  Si,  who  was 
getting  much  warmed  up  over  the  project. 

It  is  true  Si  had  been  home  once,  to  nurse  his  wound,  but 


560  SLEEPING  OVER  IT. 

he  was  more  than  ready  to  go  again.  He  told  the  boys 
that  he  hoped  the  army  would  not  move  while  they  were 
away,  for  he  wanted  the  200th  Indiana  to  have  a  hand  in 
everything  that  was  going  on.  It  is  possible  that  some 
were  not  quite  so  anxious  on  this  point  as  he  was.  Indeed 
there  is  little  doubt  that,  albeit  they  were  proud  of  the 
regiment  and  of  their  part  in  winning  its  honor  and  fame, 
they  would  be  resigned  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence 
if  it  should  happen  that  a  great  battle  were  to  take  place 
during  their  absence.  This  was  not  an  unnatural  feeling, 
for  there  were  few  who  wore  either  the  blue  or  the  gray 
that  did  not  crave  fighting  less  and  less,  the  more  they 
had  of  it. 

At  length,  when  the  animated  debate  had  exhausted  the 
subject,  and  each  man  seemed  to  have  fully  made  up  his 
mind  what  he  would  do  in  the  premises,  they  disposed 
themselves  as  best  they  could  for  rest.  Some  crept  into 
their  dreary  *' shebangs,"  wrapping  themselves  tightWin 
their  blankets  and  overcoats.  Others  stretched  out  upon 
the  wet  ground,  as  near  to  the  fire  as  they  could  and  ^^et 
be  safe  from  absolute  cremation.  It  was  but  a  choice  of 
two  evils,  either  of  which  was  bad  enough. 

Si  and  Shorty  calculated  the  chances  for  sleep  and  con- 
cluded to  try  the  fire.  Spreading  a  poncho  and  a  blanket 
in  the  slush,  they  laid  themselves  down  with  a  single 
blanket  over  them  and  a  log  for  a  pillow.  The  capes  of 
their  overcoats  were  drawn  over  their  faces  and  tucked 
around  their  heads,  to  protect  them  from  the  wind  and 
snow  and  stifling  smoke. 

Si  finally  went  to  sleep  and  dreamed  he  was  eating  a  pic 
as  large  as  a  wagon  wheel,  when  he  w^as  awakened  by  the 
warmth  of  a  large  coal  that  the  snapping  fire  had  landed 
upon  his  blanket,  and  which  was  rapidly  burning  its  way 
through  to  his  body.  He  sprang  up  with  unusual  agility, 
and  for  the  moment  resolved  himself  into  a  fire  depart- 
ment.   A  hasty  application  of  snow  proved  effectual,  and 


THE  DAWN  OF  AN   EVENTFUL  DAY.  561 

he  then  went  to  poking  up  the  fire,  which  sent  a  shower 
of  sparks  and  a  scorching  blast  over  the  forms  that  cov- 
ered the  ground.  After  heaping  on  a  fresh  supply  of  fuel  he 
went  around  and  put  out  the  sparks  and  embers  that  had 
fallen  upon  his  sleeping  comrades,  and  again  snuggled 
down  by  the  side  of  Shorty.  Scarcely  an\^body  lay  for  an 
hour  during  the  remainder  of  the  night  without  getting 
up  to  extinguish  his  smoking  garments  and  to  stir  the 
fire. 

The  reveille  sounded  at  dawn,  but  the  bugler  did  not 
blow  with  his  usual  artistic  excellence.  His  notes  came  in 
a  feeble,  discouraged  way,  telling  plainly  that  he,  too,  had 
passed  a  sorry  night.  Everybody  was  glad  that  it  was 
time  to  get  up,  and  rejoiced  to  see  the  daylight  again.  It 
was  a  forlorn  company  that  straggled  into  line  in  re- 
sponse to  the  ''Fall  in  for  roll-call,"  of  the  orderly.  They 
answered  ''Here !  "  in  tones  which,  while  fully  establishing 
the  fact  of  their  presence,  betrayed  a  wish  that  they  were 
an}^ where  else. 

The  first  duty  was  to  examine  the  arms  and  put  them  in 
order,  for  such  a  night  was  apt  to  have  a  disabling  effect 
upon  muskets  as  well  as  men.  It  is  true  there  seemed  little 
probability  that  there  would  be  immediate  occasion  to  use 
them,  for  no  doubt  the  "Johnnies,"  too,  wherever  thev 
might  be,  were  moping  around  smoking  and  spluttering 
fires,  as  solemn  and  lugubrious  as  so  many  undertakers. 
But  it  was  better  to  be  ready  a  thousand  times  when  the 
rebels  did  not  come  than  to  be  unready  once  when  thev 
did.  So  the  boys  wiped  their  guns  with  their  ragged 
blouses,  swabbed  out  the  barrels,  picked  open  the  nipples 
and  snapped  caps  to  be  sure  they  would  "go"  if  they 
should  want  them  to. 

The  scanty  breakfast — consisting  of  pale  cofiee,  from 
"grounds"  that  had  been  repeatedly  boiled  over,  a  few 
fragmentary,  water-soaked  hardtack,  and  a  rind  of  bacon 
— was  quickly  disposed  of.    The  regiment  was  not  to  move 


562  CORPORAL  KI.EGG  HEADS  THE  LIST. 

that  day,  and  the  boys  expected  to  be  ordered  out  for  drill 
in  the  snow,  but  for  some  reason  the  officers  forgot  it. 
This  was  an  oversight  that  did  not  often  occur. 

The  topic  of  conversation  the  evening  before  was  still 
uppermost  in  the  minds  of  the  members  of  Company  Q, 
and  all  were  eager  to  know  whether  what  Shorty  had  told 
them  was  true,  or  was  only  another  ''grapevine."  Their 
desire  for  official  information  was  soon  gratified.  The 
company  was  ordered  to  fall  in  again,  and  the  command- 
ing officer  read  the  order  from  Washington  regarding  vet- 
eran re-enlistments.  The  terms  and  conditions  were  the 
same  as  Shorty  had  heard,  except  that  a  number  was  fixed 
as  the  minimum  who  must  re-enlist  in  a  regiment  to  entitle 
it  to  recognition  as  a  "veteran"  organization.  It  was 
further  announced  that,  as  all  could  not  be  furloughed  at 
the  same  time  without  manifest  injury  to  the  service,  the 
regiment  in  each  brigade  which  first  presented  the  requisite 
number  of  re-enlisted  men  should  be  the  first  to  go. 

When  the  officer  had  finished  Corporal  Klegg  swung  his 
hat  and  led  off  with  a  yell,  in  which  all  the  company  joined 
except  those  who  had  thus  far  been  proof  against  the  con- 
tagion. But  their  wistful  eyes  showed  that  they  were 
already  contemplating  a  motion  to  reconsider. 

The  veteran  roll  was  opened  at  once.  In  matters  of 
this  kind  there  is  nothing  like  striking  while  the  iron  is 
hot.  Certainly  no  more  favorable  degree  of  heat  could  be 
expected  than  that  which  at  this  moment  warmed  into 
activity  the  emotions  of  Company  Q.  There  was  no  table 
or  desk  or  tent  in  the  whole  bivouac,  but  a  folded  poncho 
was  laid  across  a  log  near  one  of  the  fires,  a  paper  ready 
for  signatures  was  placed  upon  it,  a  pen  and  a  pocket  ink- 
stand were  produced,  and  the  recruiting  office  was  com- 
plete. 

Si  Klegg  was  promptly  at  hand  to  take  the  pen  and  be 
the  first  to  sign  the  roll.  His  fingers  were  stiffened  by  the 
cold,  and  he  had  a  hard  job  of  it,  but  in  course  of  timr 


SOME  HESITATE — WHAT  WONDER: 


563 


his  picturesque  autograph  adorned  the  page.  Others  fol- 
lowed in  quick  succession,  and  three-quarters  of  the  com- 
pany were  ready  to  be  mustered  as  veterans  as  soon  as 
their  names  could  be  written. 

Then  the  work  dragged  a  little.  Those  who  had  so 
firmly  resisted  all  overtures  were  seen  standing  around 
uneasily,  holding  silent  communion  with  themselves. 
The  impulsive  ones,  who  had  responded  so  readily,  were 
desirous  that  every  man  in  the  company  should  sign  the 
roll,  and  plied  their  ob- 
durate comrades  with 
persuasive  words. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that 
they  hesitated?  Was! 
it  not  rather  a  wonder 
that  any  should  con- 
sent to  bind  himself  to 
three  years  more  of 
such  hardship  and  suf- 
fering? The  life  of  a 
soldier  had  long  since 
been  stripped  of  all  its 
fascinating  show  and 
tinsel.  Fiction  and  ro- 
mance had  given  place 
to  the  stern  and  ghast-  Isiti::^^-.  .^ 
ly  reality.    The  history  si  starts  the  veteran  roll. 

of  the  war  records  no  grander  heroism  than  that  dis- 
played by  the  re-enlistment  of  two  hundred  thousand 
men.  It  was  a  critical  time.  The  government  needed 
those  tried  and  trusty  battalions,  and  the  securing  of 
them  was  its  salvation. 

It  was  not  cowardice  that  held  back  the  few.  None  had 
been  better  soldiers  than  they;  and  when  the  slow  leaven 
should  doits  work  none  would  be  more  brave,  patient  and 
iuithtul  in  the  dim,  uncertain  future.     They  were  of  those 


564  THE  LEAYEN  AT   WORK. 

who  do  not  yield  quickly  to  an  impulse,  but  when  their 
minds  are  made  up  cast  no  regretful  glance  behind. 

''Wall,  boys,  I'm  with  ye!"  exclaimed,  at  length,  the 
leader  of  the  opposition,  who  the  night  before  had  declared 
his  fixed  determination  not  to  re-enlist.  ''Tain't  none  o' 
yer  coaxin'  that  's  done  it  nuther.  I've  been  thinkin'  it  all 
over  'n'  I've  made  up  my  mind  that  it's  the  c'rect  thing 
fer  us  to  do  to  see  this  thing  through.  I  hope  that  if  there 
's  a  God  in  heaven  he  won't  let  this  cussed  war  last  three 
years  longer,  but  I'm  goin'  to  stay  by  the  200th  Injianny 
as  long  as  there  's  anybody  left  to  carry  the  flag." 

This  patriotic  outburst  was  greeted  with  uproarious 
cheers.  The  boys  yelled  with  delight  as  the  sturdy  soldier 
deliberately  marched  up  and  with  a  firm  hand  signed  his 
name  to  the  roll.  This  important  accession  to  the  ranks 
gave  a  new  impetus  to  the  work  of  ''veteranizing"  Com- 
pany Q.  The  opposition  was  thoroughly  demoralized,  and 
those  who  had  denounced  the  scheme  now  scrambled  in 
their  haste  to  get  hold  of  the  pen.  Some  of  them  said  they 
had  intended  all  the  time  to  re-enlist,  but  they  didn't  see  the 
use  of  rushing  things.  In  a  few  minutes  the  last  man  had 
put  his  name  to  the  roll;  and  then  there  went  up  a  cheer  that 
would  have  gladdened  the  heart  of  "Father  Abraham," 
could  he  have  heard  it  as  it  re-echoed  through  the  bleak 
and  dreary  woods.  With  an  army  of  such  men,  victory 
was  but  a  question  of  time. 

The  captain  of  Company  Q  was  the  first  to  report  at 
regimental  headquarters,  and  the  colonel  sent  his  compli- 
ments to  the  men  for  their  prompt  and  emphatic  response 
to  the  call  of  duty.  Each  of  the  other  companies  had  the 
same  experience  in  the  process  of  patriotic  evangelization. 
Many  were  ready  to  sign  the  rolls  at  once,  while  others 
gave  to  the  subject  grave  and  careful  thought.  A  few  re- 
fused to  the  last  to  be  persuaded.  But  before  night  the 
figures  showed  that  the  minimum  line  had  been  passed, 
and  the  200th  Indiana  was  read^^  to  be  mustered  in  as  a 


*'three  years  or  during  the  war."  565 

veteran  regiment.  The  fact  was  immediately  commu- 
nicated to  the  general  commanding  the  brigade,  who  at 
once  ordered  that  it  should  be  the  first  to  enjoy  its  fur- 
lough.   It  was  directed  to  start  on  the  following  day. 

The  men  received  the  tidings  of  their  good  fortune  with 
glad  shouts,  again  and  again  repeated.  When  the  muster- 
ing officer  came  over  to  catch  and  string  the  fish  that  had 
been  "biting"  so  freely  at  the  bait,  they  hurried  into  line; 
and  when  the  oath  was  administered  they  thrust  their 
right  arms  up  to  their  full  length,  evidenth^  determined  to 
make  the  ceremony  as  binding  as  possible.  They  had 
swallowed  bait,  hook  and  bob. 

''Say,  Shorty,"  asked  Si,  after  the  prescribed  forms  had 
been  duly  observed,  "what  'd  the  must'rin'  ossifer  mean 
when  he  said  '  fer  three  years  er  durin'  the  war '  ?  S'posin* 
the  war  hangs  on  forty  er  fifty  years ;  are  we  stuck  fer  the 
hull  business  ?  " 

"  '  Durin'  the  war '  sounds  a  leetle  like  that,"  replied  his 
comrade,  "but  it  means  suthin  else.  I  axed  the  cap'n 
today  'n'  he  said  the  guvyment  couldn't  hold  us  longer  'n 
three  years  'thout  wereinlisted  ag'in.  I  reck'n  ther'  won't 
be  more  n  a  corporal's  guard  left  o'  the  200th  Injianny  by 
the  time  we've  been  through  three  years  more  o'  such  sar- 
ris  's  we've  been  havin'." 

"It  don't  make  no  partickler  diif 'runce  ter  me,  nohow," 
said  Si,  "fer  I'm  goin'  ter  stay  t'll  the  eend— either  of  the 
war  er  of  me—hut  I  was  jest  a  bit  curus  to  know  what 
'durin'  the  war'  meant." 

"I'll  tell  ye  what  they  put  that  in  fer,"  said  Shorty. 
"It's  so  't  ef  the  war  sh'd  happen  ter  wind  up  'fore  yer 
three  years  s  out,  'n'  the  guvyment  don't  want  ye  no 
longer,  ye'll  /zafter  quit  'n'  go  home.  Don't  ye  see  't  ef 
the  guvyment  agreed  ter  keep  ye  three  years,  war  er  no 
war,  it  'd  be  'bleeged  ter  do  it,  pervidin'  ye  wanted  ter 
stay  'n'  hold  it  ter  the  barg'in." 

Si  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter,  so  loud  and  lono- 


566  HILARITY  IN  THE  200TH  INDIANA. 

continued    that    his    comrade  feared    he    would  go  into 

a  fit. 
''What  on  airth  ails  ye?  "  asked  Shorty. 

**  Ye  struck  my  funny-bone,  pard,"  replied  Si,  as  soon  as 
he  could  speak,  ''with  that  idee  't  we  'd  all  want  ter  keep 
right  on  soljerin'  arter  they  gits  this  fuss  settled.  This 
^ere  sloshin'  'round,  'thout  no  tents  ner  no  grubner  nuthin* 
'cept  fightin'— we've  had  plenty  o'  that— them  big  fellers 
must  think  it's  a  heap  more  fun  'nsleepin'  under  the  kivers 
to  hum,  'n'  sittin'  down  to  a  fust-class  lay-out  mornin', 
noon  'n'  night,  'n'  hearin'  a  blessin'  axed  'fore  eatin'.  That 
wouldn't  be  no  good  here,  'cause  ther'  ain't  nothin'  ter  ax 
a  blessin'  on.  The  guvyment  thinks  we're  all  a  lot  o'idjuts, 
er  else  it's  a  mighty  big  durned  fool  ter  s'pose  ther"s  any 
danger 't  we'll  want  ter  stay  arter  the rebils  is  licked."  And 
Si  laughed  again  till  the  tears  flowed  down  his  grimy  cheeks. 

Not  since  the  night  the  regiment  left  Indiana  to  take  the 
field  had  so  great  hilarity  prevailed  in  the  ranks  of  the 
200th.  The  men  danced  and  sung  and  laughed  and  shouted 
in  such  a  tumultuous  way  that  an  ignorant  looker-on 
would  have  imagined  that  they  were  bereft  of  reason. 
One  more  night  in  the  comfortless  bivouac  and  they  would 
turn  their  faces  toward  home.  As  the  darkness  settled 
down  it  seemed  to  them  that  never  had  fires  blazed  with 
such  a  cheerful  glow.  The  bitter  blasts  had  lost  their  sting, 
and  before  the  eyes  of  the  glad  soldiers  appeared  only 
visions  of  happy  scenes  and  a  brief  respite  from  toilsome 
march  and  lonely  picket— from  hunger  and  cold  and 
wretchedness.  There  was  no  thought  of  the  toil  and 
danger  and  pain  that  would  come  afterward. 

Si  had  observed  with  some  concern  that  his  pard  did 
not  fully  share  in  the  general  rejoicing.  While  trying  to 
imagine  the  cause  of  this,  it  came  to  him  that  Shorty  had 
no  home  to  go  to— no  loving  friends  to,  clasp  their  arms 
about  him  and  weep  for  joy  at  his  coming.  He  instantly 
decided  what  he  would  do. 


shorty's  furlough.  567 

"Shorty,"  he  said,  as  he  sat  on  a  log  before  the  fire, 
'*  whar  ye  goin'  ter  spend  yer  furlough  ?" 

For  a  moment  Shorty  did  not  reply.  There  was  a  sad 
look  in  his  face  that  touched  the  sympathetic  chords  of 
Si's  heart. 

''1  can't  jest  tell  ye  what  I  will  do  with  myself,"  he  said 
at  length.  "Ye  know,  Si,  't  things  ain't  divided  round  equil 
'n  this  world.  Some  has  homes  'n'  friends  'n'  all  that,  'n' 
I'm  glad  fer  ye,  pard,  't  ye're  one  on  'em.  Then,  ag'in, 
there's  others  't  hain't,  but  goes  driftin'  'bout  Hke  a  boat 
'fore  the  wind  'thout  no  rudder.  I'm  one  o'  them,  'n  p'r'aps 
it's  jest  as  well  that  w^ay.  I  reck'n  I  don't  desarve  ter  have 
friends  'n'  relations  'n'  a  place  ter  go  to  't  I  c'd  call  home, 
er  else  I'd  had  'em.  It  'd  be  kind  o'  soothin'  ter  sich  's  me  to 
b'Heve  ther"s  a  place  arter  we  git  through livin' here,  whar 
things  's  evened  up.  Ye  mustn't  think.  Si,  't  I'm  grumblin' 
'cause  I  ain't  fixed  like  the  rest  on  ye ;  er  't  I've  got  the 
blues,  fer  I  hain't,  no  more  'n  I  often  gits  'em.  I  reck'n 
'tain't  only  nat'ral  ter  feel  sort  o'  solemncholy  when  all 
the  boys  is  lookin'  forrard  ter  sich  a  good  time  'n'  ther' 
ain't  nobody  on  earth  't  keers  a  picayune  whether  I'm  dead 
er  'live.'' 

"Don't  ye  say  that,  pard,"  said  Si  in  a  voice  full  of  earn- 
est sympathy,  ''fer  ye  know  't  I  care  a  heap.  Ef  ye  was 
my  own  brother  I  couldn't  think  more  on  ye !" 

"Wall  I'm  right  glad  ef  ye  do,  but  I  guess  ye're  the  only 
one.  I  tell  ye  Si"— and  Shorty's  lips  quivered  with  emo- 
tions that  had  not  often  been  awakened  in  his  starved 
heart— "it's  been  a  Heaven's  blessin' ter  me 't  I  ever  knowed 
ye.  Blessin's  has  been  rayther  skurce,  'n'  when  I  git  one 
o'  the  ginowine  article  it  looks  big  to  me.  Fact  is  I'd 
'bout 's  soon  stay  here 's  ter  go  up  t'  Injianny 'n'  lie  'round 
loose  like  a  v^agrant." 

"Shorty,"  said  Si,  looking  squarely  into  the  face  of  his 
friend,  "/  kin  tell  ye  whar  ye're  goin'  ter  spend  yer  month 
off,  'n'  ye'll  have  a  good  time,  too!" 


568  SI  DOES  NOT  FORGET  HIS  PARD. 

"Then  ye're  smarter  'n'  I  am'  replied  Shorty,  with  a 
look  of  surprise  and  inquir\'. 

"Would  ye  like  ter  know?  Ye're  goin'  hum  'long  'th 
me.  I  want  ye  ter  see  father  'n'  mother  'n'  sister  Maria 
'n'  An— Annie— that 'sail  right  'th  you,Short3^  'cause  she's 
a  nice  gal  'n^  she'll  be  glad  ter  see  ye.  I've  writ  to  her  'n' 
all  the  rest  on  'em  'bout  ye,  lots  o^times.  Now  ye  needn't 
go  ter  puckerin'  up  yer  mouth  ter  say  3^e  won't  go,  'cause 
I'll  go  ter  the  colonel  'n'  have  him  detail  a  guard  ter  make 
ye!" 

The  first  tears  that  had  moistened  Shorty's  ca^cs  for 
many  a  year  glistened  in  the  firelight  as  he  said,  warmly 
grasping  the  hand  of  his  comrade : 

"Si,  when  I  fust  got  yer  idee  I  thought  ter  mvself  't  I 
wouldn't  accept  yer  invite,  fer  I  didn't  s'pose  yer  folks  keered 
anything  'bout  nic'n'I  didn't  want  ter  be  spongin'  on 'em; 
but  I  b'lieve  ye  was  'n  arnest  when  ye  axed  me,  'n'  I'm 
goin'  with  ye.  I  don't  'low  ter  stay  thar  all  the  time, 
'cause  'twon't  take  'em  long  ter  git  tired  o'  me.  I'm  ever 
fio  much  'bleeged  to  ye,  pard." 

So  this  matter  was  satisfactorily  arranged.  Si  was  over- 
joyed at  the  thought  of  having  his  comrade  go  home  with 
him ;  and  the  prospect  of  spending  his  holiday  as  a  guest 
in  somebody's  home  threw  a  ray  of  sunshine  across  the 
clouded  pathway  of  Shorty's  life. 

The  bo3^s  cared  little  whether  they  slept  at  all  that  night. 
Some  of  them  tried  to,  but  most  of  them  huddled  around 
the  fires,  in  merry  mood,  with  song  and  shout  and  mutual 
congratulations.  Under  the  circumstances  the  strict  camp 
regulations  were  relaxed,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  200th 
were  permitted  to  do  about  as  they  pleased. 

In  accordance  with  the  unanimous  desire  of  the  men  it 
was  determined  to  start  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning, 
as  the  regiment  had  to  march  two  or  three  days  to  reach 
a  point  w^here  railroad  transportation  would  be  provided. 
Breakfast — such  as  it  was — was  eaten  before  daylight,  and 


AN  UNTIMELY  ALARM.  569 

five  minutes  later  they  were  ready  to  fall  in,  for  they  had 
no  packing  to  do  except  to  roll  np  their  blankets.  When 
the  bugle  sounded  and  the  colonel  mounted  his  horse,  the 
boys  set  up  a  wild  yell  and  hurried  into  line. 

It  was  a  trying  moment  for  the  '^non-veterans,"  who, 
having  declined  to  re-enlist,  were  to  remain,  temporarily 
assigned  to  a  comparatively  new  regiment  of  the  brigade, 
whose  length  of  service  was  not  sufficient  to  entitle  it  to 
the  inestimable  privilege  of  re-enlistment.  The  members 
of  the  little  squad  gazed  sadly  upon  the  preparations  of 
their  comrades  to  start  homeward.  Sallies  of  arm^-  wit, 
some  of  them  keen  and  pungent,  were  aimed  at  the  forlorn 
group.  A  few  of  the  more  stout-hearted  kept  up  their 
^*nerve"  and  shou-^^ed  back  that  their  turn  to  laugh  would 
-come  after  a  few  months,  when  they  vv^ould  go  home  to  stay. 
But  about  half  of  them  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  They 
held  a  brief  council  of  war  and  sent  a  delegate  to  the 
colonel  to  avsk  if  they  might  yet  be  saved,  or  whether  the 
day  of  grace  was  past.  The  colonel  directed  that  an  offi- 
cer be  detailed  to  have  them  mustered  at  once,  and  by  a 
rapid  march  overtake  the  column.  The  conversion  of  these 
men  at  the  eleventh  hour  was  received  by  the  regiment 
wth  tempestuous  sho'uts. 

At  this  moment  every  ear  was  startled  by  half  a  dozen 
shots  on  the  picket-line,  a  mile  away.  Then  the  sound  of 
drums  and  bugles  was  heard,  regiments  were  hastily  formed, 
and  staff  officers  and  orderlies  galloped  hither  and  thither 
with  orders.  The  men  of  the  200th  Indiana  grasped  their 
muskets  more  firmly  and  looked  inquiringly  into  one 
another's  faces.  Was  it  an  attack  of  the  enemy?  Must 
they  go  into  battle  at  this  most  unwelcome  moment? 
Were  some  of  them  to  get  their  eternal  furloughs,  or  be 
borne  away  on  stretchers  ? 

*'Ef  it  don't  make  any  diff'runce  ter  the  Johnnies,"  said 
Si  to  Shorty,  ''it  'd  be  my  ch'ice  ter  have  'em  wait  t'll  we 
git  back,  'n'  then  we'll  give  'em  all  the  fightin'  they  want 


570  MARCHING   AWAY. 

—we'll  jest  fill  'em  tip.  'Course  we  ain't  goin'ter  run  away 
long  's  ther'  's  any  shootin'  goin'  on,  'n' we'll  do  all  we  kin 
ter  arn  our  furlough  'f  we  hafter,  but  it  does  go  a  leetle 
agin  the  grain  this  mornin'.'' 

The  colonel  made  a  speech  to  the  boys,  telling  them  he 
knew  they  didn't  feel  like  fighting  just  then,  and  he  did  not 
blame  them.  "I  feel  a  little  that  way  myself,"  he  said, 
''but  if  we  are  needed  I  know  you  will  show  them  that 
you  are  worthy  to  be  called  veterans,  and  add  new  luster 
to  the  good  name  of  the  200th  Indiana." 

The  boys  swung  their  hats  and  cheered  lustily.  The  col- 
onel needed  no  further  assurance  of  their  fidelity. 

But  they  were  spared  the  test.  The  firing  ceased  and  an 
aide,  who  had  been  dispatched  to  the  front  at  the  first 
alarm,  returned  with  the  inteUigence  that  it  was  only  the 
half-starved  pickets  firing  at  some  pigs  which  came  within 
range  of  their  muskets.  The  loud  profanity  of  the  general 
and  the  colonels  was  drowned  by  the  shouts  of  the  soldiers. 
High  above  all  others  was  heard  the  mighty  yell  of  the 
200th  Indiana. 

The  men  of  the  other  regiments  crowded  around  the 
happy  Hoosiers  to  bid  them  good-by  and  God-speed,  and 
to  fire  a  few  parting  shots. 

''You  fellers  got  the  start  of  us  by  gittin'  thar  first,  but 
we're  allcomin'." 

"Ireck'n  ye're  purty  empty  in  the  stumick,  same  's  we 
are,  but  when  ye  git  up  inter  God's  country  don't  eat  every 
thing  up.    Tell  the  folks  to  save  suthin  fer  the  rest  on  us.'* 

"Better  peel  off  them  old  duds  'fore  ye  git  home  er  yer 
gals  won't  know  ye.  They'll  take  ye  fer  a  lot  o'  waga- 
bonds." 

The  band  at  brigade  headquarters  played  "The  Girl  I 
Left  Behind  Me,"  and  then  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  as  the 
200th  Indiana  went  swinging  away  on  its  "veteran  fur- 
lough." The  steps  of  those  eager  feet  were  longer  than 
the  regulation  twenty-eight  inches. 


A  GENERAL  REJUVENATION, 


571 


The  distance  to  be  marched  would  usually  have  taken 
three  days;  the  homeward-bound  regiment  covered  it  in 
two;  and  no  complaint  was  heard  of  aches  or  blisters. 
The  fear  that  the  time  consumed  in  traveling  would  be 
taken  out  of  the  furlough,  was  quieted  by  the  assurance 
of  the  officers  that  the  full  thirty  days  would  be  given 
after  the  regiment  reached  Indiana. 

There  was  a  day  or  two  of  impatient  waiting  when  the 
railroad  was  reached,  but  at  length  a  motley  train  of  flat, 

box  and  odorous  cattle      :,-j:^-^i 

cars  was  provided,  and^^  '^^^^^~~~^ 
the  men,  not  forgetting ^^^ 
to  yell,  swarmed  in  and 
upon  them.  They  were 
not  disposed  to  be  hy- 
percritical about  their 
accommodations. 

When  the  first  depot 
of  supplies  Tvas  reached 
they  drew  entire  new 
outfits  of  clothing,  from 
hats  to  hose.  But  for 
their  weather-beaten 
faces,  they  might  have  been  mistaken 
for  new  troops.  The  practiced  eye, 
however,  could  easily  detect  the  firm, 

confident  step  and  soldierly  bearing  on  the  way  to  "god's 
that  told  of  long  service.  country," 

Wherever  opportunity  ofiered,  during  the  homeward  jour- 
ney, extraordinary  demands  were  made  upon  the  hotels, 
restaurants,  barber-shops  and  bath-houses.  The  effect  of 
these  various  regenerating  agencies  was  to  so  transform 
the  men  of  the  200th  Indiana  into  the  semblance  of  civ- 
ilized beings  that  their  comrades,  who  were  still  crowding 
around  the  smoking  fires  in  the  forest  bivouac,  would  have 
thought  the}^  belonged  to  another  planet.    Scraggly  beards 


572  "red-letter"  days. 

were  shaved  off;  long  mustaches  were  trimmed  and  waxed ; 
heads  were  shorn  of  luxuriant  crops  of  hair,  and  what  re- 
mained was  neatly  combed  and  perfumed;  collars  and 
neckties  were  put  on ;  and  many  indulged  in  the  luxury  of 
white  shirts.  Part  of  the  bounty  had  been  paid  in  ad- 
vance, and  money  was  lavishly  spent.  Expense  was  no 
consideration  when  anything  was  wanted. 

A  little  more  than  a  week  from  the  day  the  regiment  left 
the  front  Company  Q  reached  home.  Si  Klegg  had  hoped 
to  surprise  his  parents  and  sister  and  Annabel,  but,  as 
before,  the  telegraph  had  upset  his  plans.  The  news  that 
the  company  woidd  arrive  spread  through  all  that  region, 
and  the  boys  were  received  with  great  effusion  of  tears  and 
cheers  by  a  multitude  of  people. 

In  a  moment  Si  was  imprisoned  in  the  arms  of  his  mother 
and  sister.  When  they  released  him  he  greeted  Annabel, 
who  was  blushing  like  a  peony,  with  a  smack  as  loud  as 
a  pistol  shot.  He  didn't  care  now  who  heard  it.  Then  he 
presented  Shorty  all  around,  and  *'Si's  pard"  received 
abundant  assurance  that  he  was  welcome. 

Those  were  ''red  letter"  days.  Farmer  Klegg's  good 
wife  and  daughter  cooked  and  cooked,  and  Si  and  Shorty 
ate  and  ate.  Si  frequently  strolled  over  to  the  neighbor's 
house,  and  he  and  Annabel  were  unanimous  in  their  opinion 
as  to  what  they  would  do  ''when  Johnny  comes  marching 
home."  Shorty  did  not  carry  out  his  intention  to  stay 
only  a  few  days.  The  proposition  to  go  elsewhere  was  re- 
ceived with  such  disfavor  by  all  the  members  of  the  family, 
including  "sister  Marier,"  that  he  was  forced  to  yield,  and 
passed  the  entire  month  at  the  hospitable  home.  Si  even 
indulged  the  hope  that  Shorty  and  Maria  might  take  a 
mutual  *' shine  "  to  each  other,  but  in  this  he  was  doomed 
to  disappointment,  so  far,  at  least,  as  outward  appear- 
ances were  concerned.  Shorty  never  got  any  further  than 
to  remark  confidentially  to  Si  that  she  was  "a  nice  girl." 

Si  had  feared  that  his  mother  and  the  rest  would  re 


A  JUDICIOUS  INVESTMENT.  573 

proach  him  for  re-enlisting,  but  the  Spartan  spirit  was 
stronger  than  ever  in  their  breasts,  and  they  lavished  upon 
him  only  words  of  love  and  prayer  and  blessing. 

The  happy  days  passed  swiftly,  and  yet  Si  and  Shorty 
grew  impatient  to  return.  It  was  with  cheerful  hearts 
that  they  said  adieus  and  went  whirling  away  to  the  place 
of  rendezvous.  The  men  were  prompt  to  report,  and  when 
the  regiment  was  drawn  up  to  take  the  train  a  distin- 
guished citizen,  in  behalf  of  admiring  friends,  presented  to 
it  a  new  stand  of  colors,  with  a  burst  of  sanguinary  elo- 
quence. Then,  amidst  the  shouts  of  the  multitude,  the 
200th  Indiana  started  again  for  the  field  of  glory. 

The  soldiers  knew,  by  long  experience,  just  what  they 
wanted  and  what  they  did  not  want.  They  had  all  im- 
proved the  opportunity  to  fit  themselves  out  with  small 
coffee-pots  and  frying-pans,  and  a  few  other  articles  of 
necessity  and  convenience;  but  all  the  ill-judged  though 
kindly  efforts  of  mothers  and  sisters  and  sweethearts  to 
load  them  down  as  they  did  when  the^^  first  went  to  the 
war,  were  mildly  but"  firmly  resisted.  The  most  important 
investment  made  by  Si  and  Shorty  was  in  providing  them- 
selves with  Henry  repeating  rifles — sixteen-shooters — and 
a  bountiful  supply  of  ammunition. 

''I  reck'n  them  '11  make  the  Johnnies  feel  tired,"  re- 
marked Si. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

In  WHICH  THE  Boys  are  Domiciled  in  "Pup"  Tents— Some  CuRiout 
Features  of  Army  Life. 

i  i  ^^  AY,  Shorty,  what  kind  o'  contrivance  is  a  shelter 
O    tent?" 

This  inquiry  was  occasioned  by  an  order  from  the  com- 
manding general,  which  had  just  been  read  to  the  200th 
Indiana  on  dress-parade,  to  the  effect  that  the  army  would 
move  on  the  following  da}-.  A  protracted  campaign  was 
expected,  and  all  company  baggage  would  be  sent  to  the 
rear.  Tents  were  included  in  the  order,  and  everything 
else  except  what  the  men — and  officers  below  the  rank  of 
colonel — could  carry  on  their  backs.  Although  the  order 
did  not  say  so  in  words,  there  was  good  reason  to  believe 
that  the  soldiers  would  bidalast  farewell  to  their  comfort- 
able canvas  dwellings,  for  in  their  place  shelter  tents  — 
whatever  they  were — would  be  issued  immediately,  and 
the  army  must  strip  itself  down  to  the  lightest  marching 
order  possible. 

Si  never  had  heard  of  a  shelter  tent  before,  and  he  natu- 
rally wanted  to  know  what  it  was.  Shorty  w^as  not  able 
to  throw  any  light  on  the  subject,  and  further  inquiry 
developed  a  dense  and  universal  ignorance.  In  fact  every- 
body in  Company  Q  was  trying  as  hard  to  find  out  as  Si 
was.  They  asked  the  captain  and  he  didn't  know^  —  at 
least  he  said  he  didn't,  and  as  the  officers  were  never  known 
to  tell  fibs,  w^hat  he  said  was  probably  true. 

574 


THE   ** SIBLEY  TENT."  575 

In  1861  most  of  the  troops,  on  taking  the  field,  were 
furnished  with  the  "Sibley"  tent.  This  was  a  spacious 
paviHon,  large  enough  for  a  good-sized  circus  to  show  in. 
When  pitched  it  was  a  perfect  cone  in  shape,  the  apex  be- 
ing fully  twelve  feet  from  the  ground.  The  foot  of  the 
center-pole  rested  upon  an  iron  tripod,  the  limbs  of  which 
straddled  out  like  those  of  a  ''daddy-longlegs,"  covering 
a  great  amount  of  territory.  This  tripod,  with  sprawling 
feet,  seemed  to  have  been  invented  expressly  for  the  soldiers 
to  stumble  over  wh^  moving  about  at  night.  It  was 
admirably  adapted  to  this  purpose. 

The  writer  remembers  a  burly  fellow  of  his  mess  coming 
in  at  midnight  after  a  trick  of  duty.  The  tripod  caught 
him  on  the  shin  and  threw  him  heavily  across  the  feet  of 
three  or  four  of  his  messmates.  A  stenographic  report 
of  the  remarks  that  were  made  would  not  be  good  Sun- 
day reading.  Leaping  to  his  feet  in  a  raging  condition,  the 
soldier  sought  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  the  tripod. 
Seizing  one  of  the  legs  he  gave  it  a  tremendous  ''yank" 
which  threw  out  the  center-pole,  and  the  tent  came  down 
flat  upon  the  baker's  dozen  of  prostrate  forms.  The  pole 
in  its  promiscuous  descent  struck  the  head  of  one  of  the 
boys  and  raised  a  protuberance  that  lasted  him  a  fortnight. 
There  were  three  or  four  nationalities  represented  in  the 
mess,  and  for  some  minutes  a  spirited  conversation  was 
can-ied  on  in  as  many  different  languages.  Nearly  the 
whole  company  turned  out  to  see  what  the  riot  was  about. 
'The  captain  came  on  the  run,  looking  like  a  ghost  in  his 
white  underclothing,  evidently  thinking  an  insurrection 
had  broken  out.  At  length,  when  their  wrath  had  some- 
what abated,  the  boys  fell  to  and  put  up  the  tent.  To  the 
credit  of  the  shelter-tent  may  be  placed  the  fact  that  after 
it  was  in  use  no  catastrophe  of  this  kind  was  possible. 

Five  or  six  Sibley  tents  were  supplied  to  a  company,  and 
the  men  were  packed  like  sardines  in  a  box,  from  fifteen  to 
eighteen  in  each.     At  night  they  Isij  with  their  feet  mixed 


576  IT  HAD  TO  GO. 

Up  with  those  of  the  tripod  around  the  center,  while 
their  bodies  radiated  outward  to  all  points  of  the 
compass,  like  the  spokes  of  a  wagon  wheel,  their  heads 
fringing  the  outer  rim.  Each  man's  knapsack  marked  the 
particular  section  of  ground  that  belonged  to  him.  Before 
the  messes  began  to  be  thinned  out  by  the  casualties  of 
war,  the  men  slept  like  a  great  circular  row  of  spoons,  and 
if  one  wanted  to  turn  over  to  give  the  bones  on  the  other 
side  a  chance,  it  was  difficult  to  do  so  without  creating  a 
serious  disturbance  in  the  harmony  o/  the  formation.  So 
he  would  yell  out  the  order  to  ''flop"  and  all  would  go 
over  together,  reversing  the  spoon  along  the  whole  line. 

The  Sibley  tents  were  cumbrous  things  to  handle,  and 
enormously  bulky.  A  regiment  with  sixty  of  them,  and  all 
other  baggage  in  proportion,  required  a  train  of  wagons 
sufficient  to  transport  a  menagerie.  The  lumbering  ve- 
hicles, crammed  to  the  top  of  the  bows,  with  camp-kettles, 
knapsacks,  and  odds  and  ends  of  all  kinds  hung  on  at 
every  available  point,  made  a  picturesque  and  imposing 
parade  as  they  filed  out  upon  the  road. 

But  the  Sibley  tent  had  to  ''go."  The  armies  grew  rap- 
idly, and  it  became  a  grave  question  whether  there  were  in 
the  country  enough  mules  available  to  haul  Sibleys  for  a 
million  men.  The  second  year  of  the  war  the  shrinkage 
began.  In  the  writer's  experience  there  was  a  disastrous 
collapse  that  was  sudden  and  complete.  Caught  in  a  tight 
place,  the  tents  and  baggage  of  three  or  four  brigades  were 
burned  that  they  might  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
The}^  made  a  splendid  fire,  but  the  hearts  of  the  houseless 
tramps  sank  as  they  saw  them  disappear  in  that  great 
holocaust.  During  the  twelve  weeks  that  followed,  of  al- 
most constant  marching— amidst  the  chilling  rains  of  fall 
and  winter,  often  bivouacking  in  cultivated  fields,  with  mud 
over  shoe-tops — those  men  did  not  once  sleep  under  the 
friendly  cover  of  a  tent. 
To  justify  the  writer  in  giving  his  own  recollections  of 


THt  REDUCING  PROCESS. 


577 


the  Sibley  tent,  he  puts  in  evidence  the  fact  that  Si  Klegg 
did  not  shoulder  a  musket  until  after  the  reducing  process 
was  well  advanced.  The  Sibley  had  wholly  disappeared 
from  the  field,  and  was  only  used  where  troops  were  per- 
manently stationed. 

After  the  Sibley  came  the  ' '  A  "  or  "  Wedge  "  tent— the  shape 
of  which  is,  perhaps,  indicated  clearly  enough  by  its  name— 
and  the  ''Bell''  tent,  which  was  much  like  it,  except 
that  it  svjelled  out  at  each  end,  increasing  its  capacity. 
Five  or  six  men  could  be  comfortably  domiciled  in  the  A 
tent,  and  from  eight  to  ten  in  the  Bell.  '  A  year  or  so  later 

the  quartermaster  gave  the 
thumb -screw  another  turn 
and  squeezed  out  the  unique 
shelter  tent,  which  \vas  as 
near  the  point  of  none  at  all  as 
it  was  possi- 
ble to  reach. 


THE   SHRINKAGE   OF  THE  TENT. 


Early  in  the  morning  the  members  of  the  200th  Indiana  re- 
ceived their  shelter  tents.  To  each  man  was  given  a  piece 
of  stout  cotton  cloth,  about  six  feet  long  and  four  feet  wide. 
Along  one  edge  half  of  them  had  a  row  of  buttons,  and  the 
other  half  had  button-holes  to  correspond.  It  took  two — 
..one  of  each  kind — to  make  a  tent,  in  which  two  men  v^ere 
to  live  and  move  and  have  their  being. 

In  the  scramble  to  get  possession  of  the  newest  thing  in 
\\rar — this  masterpiece  of  military  invention — the  halves 
were  distributed  in  the  most  miscellaneous  way,  without 


578  SHORTY  SOLVES  THK  x'ROBLEM. 

any  reference  to  the  buttons  and  button-holes.  It  will  be 
easily  understood  that  it  was  indispensable  for  two  men  to 
"go  snacks  "  on  the  tent  business,  and  that  "pards  "  must 
have  two  pieces  that  would  go  together. 

Si  and  Shorty  found  themselves  each  with  a  section  that 
was  decorated  w4th  a  row  of  buttons.  They  had  not  yet 
been  enlightened  as  to  the  manner  in  which  a  beneficent 
government  intended  the^^  should  be  used. 

''Well  I'll  be  dog-goned,  ef  that  thing  don't  git  me!'* 
exclaimed  Si,  after  he  had  thoroughh-  inspected  this  work 
of  genius,  turning  it  over  and  around  and  eyeing  it  from 
ever\'  possible  point  of  view,  longitudinally,  transversely 
and  diagonally.  "That's  the  queerest  thing  fer  a  tent  I 
ever  heern  tell  of.  Got  any  idee  how  the  old  thing  works, 
Shorty?" 

The  latter  had  also  been  wrestling  with  the  problem,  and 
his  mental  processes  seemed  to  have  been  rather  more  suc- 
cessful than  those  of  his  comrade.  He  told  Si  that  he  be- 
lieved he  could  see  through  the  scheme.  Inquiring  around 
among  the -other  members  of  Company  Q,  all  of  whom 
were  similarly  engaged,  he  found  that  part  of  the  pieces 
had  holes  where  his  own  and  Si's  had  buttons.  Bringing 
his  reasoning  faculties  into  play  he  was  not  long  in  reach- 
ing a  satisfactory  conclusion. 

"I'll  tell  ve,  Si,"  he  said,  "ourn  don't  fit  'cause  the^^'ve 
got  all  buttons.  That's  w^hat's  the  dif-/u-culty.  Part  on 
'em  's  got  button-holes,  'n'  one  onus  '11  have  ter  trade  with 
some  feller  that's  got  more  holes  'n  he  knows  what  ter  do 
wnth,  'n'  then  we'll  see  'f  we  can't  make  *em  jine!  " 

A  little  inquiry  developed  the  same  confusion  on  all  sides. 
There  w^as  a  general  effort  to  secure  a  proper  adjustment  of 
the  pieces,  and  exchanges  were  quickly  and  cheerfully  made. 

"Thar!  "  exclaimed  Shorty,  "you  begin  on  that  side  'n' 
let's  button  'er  up  'n'  see  what  she  looks  like !  " 

In  a  minute  their  nimble  fingers  had  connected  the  two 
pieces. 


THE    "  WHAT-IS-IT."  579 

**Wall,"  said  Si,  ''I  don't  see  nothin'  yet  't  looks  like  a 
tent."  And  his  curious  eye  critically  surveyed  the  cloth 
that  lay  spread  out  upon  the  ground. 

'^Jest  you  wait  a  bit,  'n'  I'll  show  ye  a  trick,"  said  his 
comrade.  *' We'll  try  'n'  find  out  how  she  goes  'fore  we 
start  this  mornin',  so  we'll  know  whether  we're  goin'  ter 
have  anything  ter  sleep  under  t'night.  You  hunt  up  a 
couple  o'  forked  stakes  'bout  's  high  's  yer  bread-basket, 
'ri'  I'll  squint  'round  fer  a  ridge-pole." 

Si  was  not  long  in  finding  his  part  of  the  outfit,  and 
Shorty  soon  appeared  with  a  stick  an  inch  in  diameter  and 
six  or  seven  feet  long.  They  forced  the  stakes  a  little  way 
into  the  ground  and  put  the  ridge-pole  in  place. 

*'Now  stretch  'er  over,"  said  Shorty,  ^"n'  we'll  have  a 
tent  'fore  ye  know  it." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  they  threw  the  cloth 
across  the  pole  and  pulled  it  out  each  way  at  the  bottom, 
fastening  it  to  the-  ground  by  pegs  driven  through  the 
loops  of  stout  twine  provided  for  that  purpose. 

*'Thar,  what  does  that  look  like?  "  observed  Shorty,  as 
he  cast  an  admiring  glance  upon  the  imposing  structure. 

''Looks  to  me  more  like  a  chicken-coop  er  a  dog-kennel 
'n  it  does  like  a  house  fer  two  men  ter  live  in,"  said  Si. 

It  could  not  be  denied  that  there  was  force  in  Si's  re- 
mark. It  was  three  feet  high  to  the  ridge,  and  the 
"spread  "  at  the  bottom  was  about  four  feet. 

*'Git  down  on  yer  marrow  bones  'n'  crawl  in,"  said 
Shorty,  himself  setting  the  example.  They  went  in  on 
their  hands  and  knees  and  squatted  upon  the  ground. 
Their  heads  rubbed  against  the  sloping  sides. 

"Beats  all  creation,  don't  it  Shorty?  Ef  we  had  the 
man  here  't  built  that  thing  we'd  toss  him  'n  a  blanket 
t'll  he  couldn't  tell  which  eend  his  head  was  on ;  'n'  then 
we'd  set  the  fifes  ter  playin'  the  Rogue's  March  'n'  ride 
him  out  o'  camp  on  a  rail." 

This  expression  of  opinion  seemed  to  meet  with  uni 


580 


THE  NEW  TENT  CHRISTENED. 


versal  approval  from  the  rest  of  the  company,  as  they 
gathered  around  for  the  purpose  of  inspection.  If  the  in* 
ventor  of  the  concern  had  made  his  appearance  at  that 
moment,  had  he  succeeded  in  making  his  escape  at  all  from 
the  avenging  fury  of  those  exasperated  Hoosiers,  it  would 
have  been  in  a  badly  disabled  condition.  Taunts  and 
scoffs  and  jeers,  and  words  of  harsher  sound,  were  hurled 
at  that  poor  little  tent.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  no  tiev{ 
thing  ever  produced  on  this  or  any  other  continent  -w^as 
greeted  with  such  a  torrent  of  ridicule  and 
vituperation.  Some  of  the  boys  crowed 
andclucMed  after  the  mannerof  fowls,  while 
others  whistled  at  /' 
Si  and  Shorty  as  if  ^^y 
to  call  out  the  dogs  ^ 
from  their  kennel.  .^" 
It  was  immediate- 
ly christened  the 
''pup  "  tent,  and'* 
till  the  end  of  the  v- 
war  it  was  known  -C=^ 
only  by  that  name,  -_-^ 
through  all  the 
armies,  from  the 
Potomac  to  the  Rio 
Grande.  Often  the 
ridicule  conveyed  by  this  name  was  intensified  by  putting 
in  another  letter  and  making  it  "purp." 

There  were  many  names,  words  and  phrases  in  the  free- 
and-easy  language  of  the  soldiers  that  were  universal. 
It  seemed  as  though  some  of  them  had  their  origin  spon- 
taneously, and  at  the  same  time,  in  armies  hundreds  of 
miles  apart ;  or,  starting  at  one  point,  they  were  carried 
upon  the  winds  to  the  remotest  camps.  Wherever  the  flag 
floated,  the  stafl"  of  army  life  was  called  "hardtack.  "  Its. 
adjunct,  bacon,  was  known  by  that  name  only  on  the  req~ 


THE       PUP       TENT. 


THE  ARMY  '' LINGO."  581 

uisitions  and  books  of  the  commissaries.  An  officer's 
shoulder-straps  were  ''sardine-boxes"  and  his  sword  was 
a ''  toad-stabber  "  or  "cheese-knife."  A  brigade  commander 
was  a  "jigadier-brindle  ; "  camp  rumors  were  "grape- 
vines;" marching  was  "hoofing  it;"  troops  perm.anentl}' 
stationed  in  the  rear  were  known  as  "feather-bed  soldiers;" 
and  raw  recruits  were  "fresh-fish."  Among  scores  of  ex- 
pressions, many  of  them  devoid  of  sense  or  meaning  except 
as  they  were  used  by  the  soldiers,  were  "Grab  a  root;" 
"Hain't  got  the  sand;"  "  Git  thar',  EH;"  "Here's  yer  mule;" 
**Same  old  rijiment  only  we've  drawed  new  clothes ;"  "Go 
for  'em;"  "Hunt  yer  holes;"  "Bully  fer  you."  The  word 
"bully" — more  expressive  than  elegant — entered largeU^  in- 
to the  army  vernacular;  it  seemed  to  "fit"  almost  any- 
where. 

Since  the  war  there  have  been  a  score  of  widely  different 
explanations  of  the  origin  of  "Grab  a  root!"  It  was 
heard  in  every  regiment,  and  its  application  was  widely? 
diversified.  If  a  comrade  on  foot  made  a  mis-step,  or  ar 
accident  of  any  kind  befell  one  who  was  mounted,  a  hun- 
dred men  would  yell  "Grab  a  root!"  The  boys  usually 
took  great  satisfaction  in  shouting  it  Tn  the  ears  of  a  gay 
and  dashing  staff  officer,  who  might  be  galloping  along 
the  flank  of  a  moving  column,  or  between  the  blue  lines 
on  either  side  of  the  road  during  a  "rest."  If  he  chanced 
to  be  an  unskillful  rider,  and  bumped  about  in  his  saddle, 
he  was  vociferously  exhorted  to  "grab  a  root."  The 
theory  of  the  yelling  soldiers  seemed  to  be  that  if  he  would 
do  this  he  might  be  able  to  save  himself  from  tumbling 
off  his  horse.  The  helpless  officer  usually  looked  as  if 
he  would  like  to  "grab"  a  whole  armful  of  good-sized 
''roots"  and  fling  them  at  the  heads  of  his  tormentors. 
The  boys  did  not  often  try  it  on  a  general — unless  it  was 
night,  and  pretty  dark. 

The  soldiers  of  the  200th  Indiana  loaded  upon  the 
wagons  the  tents  that  had  so  long  sheltered  them,  and 


582  SI  DISCARDS  THE   KNAPSACK, 

they  never  saw  them  again.  The  order  said  they  would 
be  sent  to  the  rear  ''for  the  present,"  but  the  bo^^s  learned 
in  course  of  time  just  w^hat  that  meant.  Henceforward 
the  "pup"  tent  was  to  be  their  only  protection  from  sun 
and  storm. 

When  the  call  was  sounded  for  the  regiment  to  fall  in 
and  take  the  road,  Si  and  Shorty  found  that  it  did  not 
require  more  than  two  minutes  to  "strike"  their  little  tent, 
detach  the  halves,  and  roll  them  up  ready  for  transporta- 
tion. Each  half  weighed  scarcely  more  than  two  pounds 
and  its  addition  to  the  soldier's  load  was  barely  appre- 
ciable. 

By  this  time  Si  had  reached  that  stage  in  his  armj^  career 
when  he  could  w^holly  dispense  with  a  knapsack.  Shorty 
had  parted  compan\^  with  his  some  time  before,  and  Si 
had  been  thinking  for  a  good  while  about  cutting  loose 
from  this  incumbrance.  All  the  sentimental  notions,  of 
which  his  head  was  so  full  when  he  started  out,  had  en- 
tirely vanished.  With  them  had  disappeared  the  last 
vestige  of  ever^^thing  that  was  not  a  necessity,  save  only 
Annabel's  well-worn  locket— which  had  a  permanent  rest- 
ing place  near  the  spot  where  he  imagined  his  heart  to  be 
located— and  two  or  three  trifling  keepsakes  that  bestowed 
away  in  the  pockets  of  his  blouse  and  trousers.  His  knap- 
sack was  about  worn  out,  any wa^^  and  he  concluded  it 
was  not  worth  while  to  draw  another.  His  "dress  coat," 
in  which  he  used  to  feel  so  grand  at  Sunda^^  morning  in- 
spection and  evening  parade,  had  long  since  gone  to  join 
"the  innumerable  caravan"  of  things  which,  at  first  con- 
sidered indispensable,  came  to  be  only  a  useless  burden. 
In  fact  he  did  not  have  anything  to  carry  in  his  knapsack 
worth  speaking  of  Sometimes  he  had  an  extra  shirt  or 
pair  of  drawers  and  sometimes  he  didn't.  He  was  equally 
well  and  comfortable  and  happy,  whether  he  had  or  had 
not  a  reserve  supply  of  these  articles.  When  he  had  no 
clothes  except  those  he  wore,  he  found  abundant  compen- 


AND  IS  A  VETERAN  INDEED.  583 

sation  for  his  poverty  in  the  fact  that  his  load  was  so 
much  the  Hghter.  When  his  shirt  gave  abundant  evidence 
that  its  days  of  usefulness  were  past  he  would  draw  a  new 
one,  put  it  on,  and  throw  the  old  one  away. 

In  short.  Si  had  now  "learned  his  trade."  Some  had 
proved  more  apt  pupils  than  he,  for  he  had  been  loth  to 
cast  away  his  cherished  idols ;  but  at  last  he  had  mastered 
his  lesson.  Little  by  little  he  had  found  that  there  was  a 
great  deal  besides  knowing  how  to  load  a  gun  and  push  a 
bayonet  that  was  necessary  to  make  a  toughened  and 
thoroughly  efficient  soldier— one  who  could  be  depended 
upon  not  only  to  charge  up  to  the  mouths  of  blazing  can- 
non, but  to  march  twenty-five  miles  a  day  and  do  picket 
duty  at  night,  on  half  rations,  in  all  kinds  of  weather, 
for  weeks  at  a  stretch.  Such  men  there  were,  by  tens  of 
thousands,  whom  nothing  but  the  deadly  missiles  of  war 
could  kill. 

So  when  Si,  that  morning,  rolled  up  his  overcoat  and 
half  of  a  pup  tent  inside  his  blanket,  tied  the  ends  together, 
threw  it  over  his  shoulder,  and  marched  off  at  a  swinging 
gait,  he  was  justly  entitled  to  be  classed  as  a  veteran— a 
soldier,  in  the  fullest  significance  of  the  word.  He  was  one 
of  the  happ3-go-lucky  sort,  who  took  things  as  they  came 
and  never  had  ''the  blues."  To  him  the  rain  did  not  seem 
so  wet,  nor  the  sun  so  hot,  nor  the  "tack"  so  hard,  nor 
the  miles  so  long,  nor  his  "traps"  so  much  as  if  they 
weighed  a  hundred  ounces  to  the  pound,  as  they  did  to 
those  less  buoyant  and  elastic  in  spirit  than  he.  Blisters 
came  less  often  than  formerly  upon  his  now  calloused  feet  ; 
when  they  did,  he  would  tramp  along  just  the  same.  He 
had  "got  used  to  it." 

"They're  gittin'  things  down  ter  a  purty  fine  p'int,  ain't 
they,  Shorty,"  he  said,  as  he  trudged  along,  "makin'  us 
lug  our  houses  on  our  backs,  'sides  the  muskits  'n'  am'ni- 
tion  'n'  groceries  'n'  bed'n.  I  don't  see  's  they  c'n  crowd 
us  any  furder  nless  they  makes  us  tote  the  ossifers'  duds. 


584 


WHAT  NEXT? 


Mebbe  they'll  pile  onto  us  the  hay  'n'  corn  ter  feed  the 
hosses.  It's  bin  gittin'  wuss  'n'  wuss  ever  since  we  fust 
started  out,  but  I  can't  'magine  what  it  '11  be  next.  P'r'aps 
arter  we've  marched  the  mules  to  death  they'll  hitch  us  ter 
the  waggins.  I  reck'n  that  wouldn't  be  much  wuss  'nsome 
things  we  have  had  ter  do.  D'^^e  s'pose  ye'd  ha'  'listed, 
Shorty,  ef  ye'd  ha'  knowed  all  't  ye  had  to  go  through?'* 

"  Would  jou,  Si  ?" 
^'I  — b'lieve  — I  — 
would,"  he  replied, 
speaking  slowly  and 
thoughtfully.  ''I 
know"-  I  would,''  he 
added,  ''but  mebbe 
I  wouldn't  ha'  been 
quite  so  fierce 's  I  was 
fer  gittin' in.  I  didn't 
s'pose  ther'  was  very 
much  reel  solid  fun 
'n  goin'  to  war,  'n'  I 
hain't  found  no  rea- 
son yet  ter  change  my 
notion.  Ther'isalee- 
■'^  tie  bit,  now  'n'  then, 
'n'Tcknow  I've  alius 


tried  ter  git  all  ther' 


ve 


But 


SI  AS  A  VETERAN. 


answer  my 


was  c 
didn't 

question  yet 

*  'Oh,  'twouldn't  ha'  mattered  much  ter  me, "  replied  Shorty. 
"I  'low 't  I  \vent  in  with  m^-  eyes  opened  wider  'n  y  ourn  was. 
Ye  know  I'd  had  a  tetch  on  it  in  the  three  months'  sarvice, 
though  that  wa'n't  a  patchin'  ter  what  I've  struck  since  I 
j'ined  this  'ere  rijiment.  I  'xpected  hard  knocks  'n'  I've  got 
'em,  so  I  ain't  noways  dis'p'inted.  But  I  tell  ye  what  'tis, 
Si,  I  b'lieve  there's  more  'n  one  man  dead  that  'd  bin  liv*  i' 


A  CAMP  OF   **PUP"  TENTS.  585 

yet  if  he'd  had  sich  a  feller  's  you  be  fer  a  pard.  It  makes  a 
heap  more  diff 'runce  'n  ye  think  whether  a  man 's  down  in 
the  mouth  all  the  time er not.  Ye' ve  been  wuth more ter  me 
'n  forty-'leven  doctors.  I  hain't  never  tuk  no  medicine  'cept 
^when  I  was  playin'  off,  'n' I  don't  'ntend  ter  'f  I  c'n  help  it." 

Everyday  were  more  firmly  cemented  the  ties  that  bound 
together  Si  and  Shorty.  Each  knew  the  other  s  true,  manly 
worth,  and  the  hardships  and  dangers  shared  and  the  suf- 
ferings endured  had  so  united  them  that  in  their  thoughts 
and  feelings,  their  devotion  to  duty  and  to  each  other,  their 
hearts  were  as  one.  They  were  friends  of  the  kind  that 
''sticketh  closer  than  a  brother,"  and  would  have  faced 
for  each  other  any  peril,  however  great. 

As  the  arm}^  halted,  toward  evening,  the  great  bivouac 
presented  a  scene  of  unwonted  activity.  There  was  a  gen- 
eral rush  to  put  up  the  new  tents.  The  adjacent  woods 
literally  swarmed  with  men  in  quest  of  forked  sticks  and 
poles,  the  demand  for  which  quite  exhausted  the  supply. 
Then  in  a  few  minutes,  as  if  by  magic,  the  little  patches 
of  white  cloth  dotted  field  and  hillside,  far  and  near.  For 
fifty  thousand  men  there  were  twenty-five  thousand  of 
them.  It  was  almost  as  if  an  untimely  snow-storm  had 
whitened  the  earth. 

With  a  mixture  of  mirth  and  profanity,  the  men  crept 
into  and  took  possession  of  their  novel  quarters.  An 
army  on  its  knees  would  have  been,  under  certain  condi- 
tions, a  most  gratifying  spectacle  to  the  chaplains,  but  it 
is  to  be  feared  that  the  universal  posture  at  this  time 
afforded  them  little  spiritual  encouragement.  The  lan- 
guage generally  used  did  not  indicate  that  the  army  was 
engaged  in  evening  devotions.  The  men  scrambled  around 
and  ''made  down "  the  beds.  Such  as  could  get  an  armful 
of  straw  counted  themselves  fortunate,  while  others  made 
mattresses  of  boughs  or  bushes. 

After  supper  they  stretched  out  their  weary  limbs  to  rest. 
They  made  the  night  hideous  with  their  yells  and  cat-calls 


586  MAKING  IT  WARM  FOR  THE  OFFICERS. 

and  barkings,  as  if  they  imagined  themselves  transformed 
into  the  various  species  of  domestic  animals  that  might 
be  supposed  to  inhabit  such  dwellings.  They  made  the 
quartermaster,  who  supplied  them  with  the  pup-tents, 
wish  that  he  had  never  been  born.  The  commanding 
general,  who  issued  the  order  for  the  quartermaster  to  do 
it,  came  in  for  his  full  share  of  attention. 

Occasions  were  not  infrequent  when  whole  regiments 
and  brigades,  utterly  disregarding  the  sanctity  of  rank, 
filled  the  air  with  yells  and  shouts  and  gibes  aimed 
directly  at  certain  officers,  often  in  high  command,  on  ac- 
count of  some  order  or  action  that  was  distasteful  to  the 
men.  Dark  nights  were  usually  taken  advantage  of  for 
such  performances,  when  it  was  impossible  to  identify  in- 
dividual offenders.  If  an  officertried  to  ''catch"  anybody 
at  it,  he  found  himself  attempting  the  biggest  job  of  his 
life.  Hearing  the  derisive  shouts  in  a  company  on  one 
flank  of  the  regiment,  he  would  hasten  thither  only  to  find 
the  men  snoring  as  if  asleep.  Then  there  would  be  an  out- 
break on  the  other  flank  and  away  he  would  go  in  that 
direction,  with  no  better  success  than  before. 

As  a  rule,  officers  paid  little  attention  to  this  badinage, 
as  long  as  it  was  harmless,  permitting  the  boys  to  have 
their  fun.  They  knew  that  it  meant  nothing,  and  that 
those  who  yelled  the  loudest  and  said  the  most  irreverent 
things,  would,  on  the  morrow,  at  their  command,  leap 
into  the  very  jaws  of  death.  None  knew  as  well  as  the 
o-enerals  how  much  the  efficiencv  of  an  army  was  enhanced 
by  keeping  the  soldiers  in  good  spirits. 

Sometimes  the  shafts  of  ridicule  were  so  keenly  pointed 
and  fired  with  such  unerring  and  persistent  aim,  that 
their  stings  became  unendurable,  and  the  goaded  officers 
would  charge  around  in  a  furious  rage,  threatening  the  of- 
fenders with  the  most  awful  and  tremendous  punishments. 
Usually  the  boys  made  life  a  burden  to  such  an  officer  to 
the  end  of  the  war,  if  he  remained  in  the  service  so  long. 


ROUGH  ON  SHOULDER-STRAPS.  587 

Here  and  there  was  a  ''West  Pointer,"  whose  punctilious 
ideas  of  the  respect  due  to  epaulettes  and  gold-lace  would 
not  permit  him  under  any  circumstances  to  ''take  a  joke'* 
that  came  from  the  rank  and  file.  If  he  chanced  to  be  the 
beneficiary  of  the  vocal  "shivaree"  (as  they  call  it  in  the 
west)— and  he  was  quite  as  likely  as  any  one  to  be  the 
target  of  the  wild  volunteers — a  storm  was  pretty  cer- 
tain to  follow.  That  officer  was  fortunate  who  could  act 
the  part  of  wisdom,  and  laugh  with  the  rest  at  the  rude 
and  noisy  jests  of  the  soldiers,  as  they  rolled  about  in 
their  pup  tents  or  stumbled  along  through  the  tedious 
hours  of  a  night  march,  even  though  their  words  might 
cut  to  the  quick.  The  only  sure  and  speedy  way  to  put 
an  end  to  the  "racket"  was  to  pay  no  attention  to  it.  If 
the  men  found  that  an  officer  was  "bored"  he  was 
likely  to  be  assailed  again  and  again,  with  redoubled 
vigor. 

A  very  common  and  effective  method  that  was  popular 
among  the  troops — probably  less  so  among  the  helpless 
victims — was  for  a  stout-lunged  soldier  to  shout  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  a  question  touching  upon  some  foible  or 
peccadillo  of  an  officer.  Another  stentorian  patriot, 
perhaps  at  some  distant  point  in  the  regiment,  would 
answer  by  ^^elling  out  the  name  of  the  officer  in  a  tone 
that  could  be  heard  half  a  mile.  This  colloquial  exercise 
was  not  unlike  that  carried  on  between  the  "interlocutor  '■ 
and  "end-men"  of  a  minstrel  troupe.  Those  among 
the  officers  who  could  conceal  from  the  boys  their  weak 
spots — for  all  were  human,  and  many  ver^^  much  so — were 
smarter  men  than  the  average.  All  these  things  were 
carefully  treasured  up  in  the  memories  of  the  soldiers,  and 
every  now  and  then,  when  the  conditions  were  favorable, 
and  the  boys  were  in  the  right  humor,  there  came  a  "snap" 
of  very  cold  weather  for  those  unlucky  officers. 

On  the  night  in  question  the  soldiers  of  the  200th  In- 
diana, after  they  had  exhausted  their  rage  and  wit  upon 


588  CATECHISMAL  TORTURE. 

tlie  pup-tent  and  the  hapless  quartermaster,  took  up  the 
catechism,  in  the  manner  described. 

"Who  stole  the  ham?'*  shouted  an  anxious  inquirer. 

*' Captain  Smith!"  was  the  answer,  loud  and  clear. 

''Who  got  behind  a  tree  at  Stone  River?" — from  another 
-voice. 

''LeAenant  Brown!" 

''Who  gobbled  the  lone  widow's  chickens ?" 

' '  Capting-g-g  Jones ! ' ' 

"Who  drank  too  much  applejack?" 

"Major  Robinson!" 

"Who  got  sick  at  Mission  Ridge?" 

"Lieutenant  Johnsing !" 

"Who  tried  to  run  the  guards  and  got  nabbed?" 

"Colonel  Williams!" 

^'Who  stole  the  black  bottle  from  the  sutler?" 

"Lieutenant  Duzenberrv !" 

"Who  plaj^ed  off  to  ride  in  the  ambulance?" 

"Captain  Smart!" 

"Say  boys,  ther'  won't  be  no  iightin'  tomorrow." 

"Why?" 

"  'Cause  Capt'n  Dodgit  's  up  with  the  ridgment." 

So  it  went,  until  the  entire  list, had  been  exhausted,  for 
there  were  fe^Y  officers  concerning  whom  something  had 
not  been  put  in  pickle  for  such  occasions.  A  few  impetuous 
victims  made  matters  infinitely  worse  by  prancing  around 
in  a  high  state  of  excitement,  threatening  their  relentless 
tormentors  with  sword  and  pistol ;  but  they  did  not  shoot  or 
"prod"  anybod}^ — the  boj'-s  knew  they  wouldn't — and  their 
impotent  wrath  expended  itself  in  vain ;  the  odds  against 
them  were  too  great.  The  sound  of  the  "taps,"  that 
always  brought  quiet  to  the  camp,  came  like  a  balm  to 
their  ^vounded  spirits. 

Such  was  the  advent  of  the  pup-tent  in  the  200th  Indiana 
— and  in  hundreds  of  other  regiments.  It  marked  a  new 
epoch  in  the  increasingly  active  campaigns  of  the  great 


NOT  SO  BAD  AS  IT  SEEMED.  589^ 

armies.  These  were  now  mobilized  to  a  degree  that  had 
at  no  previous  time  been  reached,  being  almost  wholly  freed 
from  the  enormous  quantities  of  baggage  that  in  the  earlier 
years  of  the  war  incumbered  their  movements  with  immense 
trains.  Wagons  were  scarcely  needed  except  for  trans- 
porting supplies  of  food,  clothing,  ammunition  and  hospital 
stores. 

As  for  the  soldiers,  their  aversion  to  the  shelter  tent 
soon  disappeared.  Before  many  months  elapsed  they  had 
come  to  regard  it  as  an  unmixed  blessing.  Under  the 
former  regime,  when  the  army  was  in  motion  the  wagons^ 
were  often  in  the  rear  for  days  and  weeks  together,  and  the 
soldiers  were  compelled  to  brave  the  weather,  wholly  un- 
protected, save  by  such  imperfect  shelters  as  could  be  im- 
provised. The  despised  and  much-reviled  pup-tent  proved 
to  be  the  one  thing  needful.  What  a  man  carried  on  his 
back  he  was  always  sure  of,  and  this  was  the  only  kind 
of  transportation  that  he  could  depend  upon. 

After  the  soldiers  began  to  take  more  kindly  to  their  new 
quarters,  straitened  though  they  were,  they  would  as  soon 
have  thought  of  campaigning  without  their  blankets  as 
without  their  pup  tents.  They  came  to  be  exceedingly  dex- 
terous in  pitching  them.  A  few  minutes  only  was  required, 
whenever  and  wherever  the  army  stopped.  If  no  woods 
were  at  hand  to  supply  the  convenient  forked  sticks,  rails 
and  boards  were  split,  or  pieces  of  cracker  boxes  pressed 
into  the  service — anvthins:  with  a  small  notch  cut  in  one 
end  in  which  the  ridge-pole  could  rest  would  answer  the 
purpose.  If  other  sources  of  supply  failed  the  soldier  could 
always  fall  back  on  his  musket.  Two  ^'pards"  would 
*' fix  "their  bayonets  and  thrust  them  into  the  ground,  one 
at  each  end  of  the  tent,  catch  the  edges  of  the  cloth  be- 
tween the  nipples  and  the  hammers  of  the  inverted  guns, 
and  the  dwelling  was  ready  for  occupancy.  In  such  a  case 
jao  ridge-pole  was  necessary.    At  the  signal  to  strike  tents 


590  A  GOOD  THING,   AFTER  ALL. 

tHey  would  disappear  almost  in  an  instant,  as  if  the  camp 
were  swept  by  a  tornado. 

Under  ordinary  conditions  of  weather  they  furnished 
comfortable  shelter.  True,  a  hard  rain  would  beat  through 
them,  and  trickle  in  baptismal  streams  over  the  inmates ; 
a  furious  wind  would  sometimes  play  sad  havoc  with  the 
fragile  structures,  tearing  them  from  their  fastenings  and 
sending  them  flying  through  the  air  in  wild  confusion.  A 
visitation  of  this  kind  at  night,  with  the  accompaniment 
of  a  copious  rain,  was  somewhat  calamitous  in  its  effectsi 
upon  both  the  comfort  and  the  tempers  of  those  so  rudel;^ 
unhoused  ;  but  it  was  only  an  incident  in  the  soldier's  \ih 
that  passed  away  with  the  morrow's  sunshine. 

One  edition  of  the  pup  tent  was  provided  with  a  three- 
cornered  piece  of  cloth,  which,  after  the  tent  was  pitched, 
was  quickly  joined  on  with  buttons  and  entirely  closed  on^ 
end,  contributing  much  to  the  vsrell-being  of  the  dwellers 
within.  In  many  of  those  issued  to  the  troops  this  con^ 
venient  part  was  wanting,  and  the  lack  was  supplied,  as 
far  as  possible,  by  a  rubber  blanket,  or  a  chance  piece  of 
cloth  picked  up  with  this  end — that  is,  the  end  of  the  pup- 
tent — in  view.  Sometimes  a  night  raid  among  the  mule- 
drivers  would  yield  a  very  serviceable  fragment  ruthlessly 
cut  from  a  wagon-cover. 

Next  to  the  hardtack  and  the  ''gray back,"  no  feature 
of  army  life  will  dwell  longer  or  more  vividly  in  the  mem- 
ories of  the  veterans  of  the  war  than  the  Pup  Tent. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Si  Enters  Upon  the  Last  Great  Campaign  which  Ends  the  War. 

THE  campaign  of  1864  was  unlike  any  that  preceded 
it.  Up  to  that  time  the  grand  divisions  of  the  Union 
army  had  moved  spasmodically,  and  without  concert  of 
action,  each  plunging  forward  with  music  and  banners, 
and  then  rushing  back  again,  as  the  enemy,  on  his  shorter 
interior  lines,  concentrated  his  forces  at  the  point  assailed. 
This  policy  seemed  likely,  as  shown  by  the  experience  of 
three  years,  to  prolong  the  struggle  indefinitely.  Now 
and  then  a  town  of  little  or  no  importance  to  either  side 
was  wrested  from  the  enemy  and  its  capture  was  an- 
nounced by  the  newspapers  in  hysterical  head-lines.  When 
the  people  at  the  North  read  that  Culpeper  Court-house, 
or  Corinth,  or  Little  Rock  had  been  taken,  perhaps  with- 
out anj^body  being  hurt,  they  fondly  believed  that  the 
Gibraltar  of  the  South  had  fallen,  the  back-bone  of  the 
rebellion  was  at  last  broken,  and  nothing  now  remained 
to  be  done  but  to  appoint  a  receiver  to  wind  up  the  affairs 
of  the  so-called  Southern  Confederacy.  So  they  shouted 
themselves  hoarse  and  made  congratulatory  speeches, 
amidst  the  blare  of  bands,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  the 
combustion  of  powder.  But  the  rebel  armies  generally 
got  away  when  they  wanted  to,  and  turned  up  at  unex- 
pected times  and  places,  as  pugnacious  as  ever. 

At  length  a  great  Hght  dawned  upon  those  in  authority. 
The  important  discovery  was  made  that  marching  triumph- 
antly into  decayed  and  deserted  towns,  and  impressively 

591 


592  THEN  CAME  THE   ''TUG  OF  WAR." 

planting  the  stars  and  stripes  on  empty  court-houses^, 
would  never  end  the  war,  so  long  as  the  military  power 
of  the  enemy  remained  unbroken.  By  this  time  ''the  way- 
faring man  though  a  fool"  could  comprehend  the  truth 
that  the  rebellion  was  not  to  be  crushed  by  sounding 
official  proclamations,  nor  by  fervid  rhetorical  emanations 
from  the  brains  of  valorous  "  On-to-Richmond  "  editors. 
It  could  only  be  accomplished  by  the  persistent  use  of 
powder  and  lead,  and  an  occasional  prod  with  the  bayo- 
net. Without  taking  issue  upon  the  pleasing  and  poetic 
proposition  that  "the  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword,"  it 
may  confidently  be  asserted  that  for  the  job  in  question 
the  musket  outranked  the  pen  as  much  as  a  resplendent 
major-general  did  a  high  private  in  the  rear  rank. 

So  it  was  that  in  1864  came  the  long,  persistent  "tug" 
of  the  war.  East  and  west  the  Union  forces  moved  simul- 
taneously, with  unity  of  purpose  and  action— fighting  the 
rebel  armies  whenever  and  wherever  they  could  be  found. 
There  was  to  be  no  more  "sparring  for  wind,"  but  a 
mighty  clinch  and  a  "rough-and-tumble  "  for  the  mastery. 
The  fiction  of  superior  valor  or  military  prowess  on  either 
side  had  been  exploded.  At  the  worst  it  was  believed  that 
the  rebels  could  be  beaten  in  the  end,  dearly-bought  though 
the  victory  might  be,  by  the  same  process  that  is  some- 
times employed  in  playing  at  "checkers."  Having  secured 
a  slight  numerical  advantage  over  his  adversary  the 
player  deliberately  proceeds  to  "man  him  down,"  giving 
a  life  for  each  one  he  takes,  and  thus  vanquishes  him  at 
last.  This  is  the  game  that  was  played  during  the  last 
and  bloodiest  year  of  the  war,  and  it  succeeded.  More 
men  were  killed  and  wounded  by  lead  and  iron  in  the  des- 
perate grapple  from  April,  1864,  to  April,  1865,  than 
during  the  previous  three  years.  Better  so,  with  all  the 
sickening  scenes  of  carnage,  than  to  have  had  the  strug- 
gle prolonged  and  thrice  the  number  borne  to  their 
graves  from  a  hundred  hospitals  and  prisons  during  the 


NEVER  GRANDER  HEROISM.  593 

slowly-dragging  years.     The  price  paid  was  a  high  one, 
but  the  economy  of  the  purchase  cannot  be  questioned. 

The  rank  and  file  of  the  Union  armies  cheerfully  accepted 
the  new  order  of  things.  In  fact,  the  idea  that  this  was 
the  way  to  put  down  the  rebellion  took  possession  of  the 
minds  of  the  soldiers  long  before  it  reached  headquarters. 
Bravely,  patiently  and  without  complaint  they  faced  the 
enemy's  guns  day  after  day,  through  weeks  and  months, 
and  willingly  made  the  awful  sacrifice  that  was  demanded. 
Surely  no  less  can  be  said  of  the  men  of  the  Confederate 
armies,  in  their  gallant  and  yet  hopeless  struggle.  The 
pages  of  history  bear  no  record  of  grander  heroism  and 
fortitude  than  w^ere  shown  by  American  soldiers,  North 
and  South,  during  the  last  year  of  our  civil  war. 

''Looks  ter  me,  Shorty,"  said  Si,  the  first  night  of  the 
great  campaign,  "the  way  we're  startin'  out  this  time,  's 
though  we  wa'n't  goin'  ter  fool  with  the  rebils  no  longer. 
When  we  only  whip  'em  once  'n  a  while  they  don't  stay 
whipped  wuth  a  continental.  We've  got  ter  jest  keep 
lickin'  on  'em — git  'em  on  the  run  'n'  make  'em  go  t'll 
they're  tired.  I  hain't  got  no  military  eddication,  but  I 
b'lieve  ther'  ain't  no  other  way  ter  squush  this  rebellion. 
Ef  the  gin'rals  had  axed  me  I'd  ha'  told  'em  so  long  ago. 
Course  I  don't  know  what  they're  goin'  ter  do,  but  I've 
got  'n  idee  they'll  keep  us  a-humpin'  fer  a  while." 

'  *  Does  seem  kind  o'  that  way, ' '  replied  Shorty.  ' '  I  figger 
it  out  't  ther's  got  ter  be  'bout  so  much  shootin'  'n'  bein' 
shot  ter  do  the  business,  'n'  it'll  be  a  heap  better  ter  keep 
peckin'  away  'thout  givin'  'em  no  chance  ter  rest  t'll  we 
wind  the  thing  up.  One  o'  the  boys  was  sayin'  't  he  seed 
a  noosepaper  today  't  told  how  all  the  armies  was  gittin' 
ready  ter  move,  'n'  I  reck'n  they're  goin'  ter  shake  up  the 
Johnnies  purt}^  lively.  I've  got  the  same  notion  't  you 
have,  Si,  'n'  ef  I  kin  see  through  a  ladder  well  have  livelier 
music  'n'  more  on  it  'n  we've  heerd  afore." 

Being  unanimous  in  their  verdict  upon  the  outlook  for 


594 


THEY  FOUND  THE  ENEMY. 


^lie  immediate  future,  there  was  no  chance  for  argument; 
so  thej  crawled  into  their  dog-tent  and  went  to  sleep. 

Two  hours  before  daylight  they  were  aroused  to  stand 
at  arms  until  dawn.  For  months  this  enforced  habit  of 
rising  at  an  exasperating  hour  was  continued.  So  far  as 
the  soldiers  were  concerned,  Ben  Franklin's  proverb  was 
without  force,  as  *' early  to  rise"  made  them  neither 
''healthy,"  ''wealthy" — at  thirteen  dollars  a  month — nor 
"wise." 
The  enemy  was  within  easy  reach,  and  there  was  no 

trouble  in  finding 
him  that  day.  He 
was  full  of  fight 
and  stubbornly  re- 
sisted the  advance. 
Then  w^as  begun 
the  blood}^  strug- 
gle that,  through 
weary  weeks  and 
months,  put  to  the 
severest  test  that 
mind  can  conceive 
the  valor  and  en- 
durance of  the 
well-tried  soldiers 
of  both  armies. 
Skirmishing  was 
NOT  TO  BE  CAUGHT  NAPPING.  iuccssant,  and  bri- 

gades, divisions  and  corps  often  met  in  the  dreadful 
shock  of  battle.  The  w^hiz  of  bullet  and  scream  of  shell 
became  so  familiar  to  the  ear  that  they  were  almost 
robbed  of  their  terrors.  So  long  as  a  soldier  was  not  hit 
he  reofarded  with  a  stoical  indifference  to  self  the  w^ork  of 
death  that  w^as  constantly  going  on  around  him.  The 
senses  became  calloused.  The  killing  and  mangling  of 
fellow-beings  w^as  the  ever^^-day  vocation.    Men  engaged 


'*WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK."  595 

in  it  with  no  more  compunction  than  if  they  were  hunting 
game.  The  finer  feehngs  were  seared  and  deadened  by  the 
fiery  breath  of  war. 

Day  after  day  the  soldiers  marched  and  dug  rifle-pits  and 
built  long,  tortuous  lines  of  intrenchments,  under  the  fierce 
midsummer  sun— today  charging  the  enem}'  in  open  field, 
and  tomorrow  by  a  fiemk  movement  forcing  him  to 
abandon  his  chosen  position.  They  lay  behind  works, 
looking  into  the  very  muzzles  of  hostile  muskets  and 
cannon.  At  times  the  lines  were  so  near  together  that 
there  was  no  room  for  pickets.  Whole  brigades  glared 
upon  one  another  with  sleepless  eyes,  by  day  and  by  night. 
If  a  head  or  body  w^ere  exposed,  though  but  for  an  instant, 
on  either  side,  a  hundred  rifles  cracked  and  a  hundred 
bullets  sped  on  their  errand.  Every  hour  death  reaped 
its  fearful  harvest.  Men  were  buried  beside  the  trenches 
in  which  they  fell.  Surgeons  lay  behind  the  breastworks 
to  care  for  the  wounded,  who  could  only  be  borne  to  the 
rear  under  cover  of  the  darkness. 

Officers  and  soldiers  slept  in  their  clothes,  with  sw^ords 
and  muskets  in  their  hands.  Rarely  a  night  passed  with- 
out an  alarm.  An  exchange  of  shots  on  the  picket-line 
always  awoke  the  soundest  sleeper,  and  in  half  a  minute 
he  w^as  standing  in  his  place  at  the  w^orks.  Often  the  men 
lay  down  in  two  long  lines  and  had  but  to  spring  up  to  be 
in  order  of  battle.  At  crack  of  musket  and  whistle  of  bul- 
let, ten  thousand— twenty  thousand— fifty  thousand  sol- 
diers rose  as  if  by  magic,  grasping  their  trusty  weapons. 
It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  this  to  occur  twice  or 
thrice  in  a  night.  At  no  time,  sleeping  or  waking,  was  a 
soldier  w^here  he  could  not  seize  his  musket  and  be  ready 
irj  an  instant  for  any  duty. 

^ven  the  privates  became  skilled  in  the  arts  of  war.  The 
general  movements  were  directed  by  those  in  command, 
but  so  far  as  the  details  were  concerned  the  soldiers  knew 
as  well  as  the  officers  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it.    They 


596  THE  SHOVEL  NO  LONGER   DESPISED. 

no  longer  deemed  it  a  mark  of  cowardice  to  take  advan- 
tage of  any  cover  that  opportunity  offered.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  man  who  did  not  do  this  was  set  down  as  a 
fool.  Skirmishers  dodged  from  tree  to  tree,  now  crouch- 
ing behind  a  stump  or  log  for  a  shot  and  then  dashing 
ahead;  now  creeping  along  a  fence  or  wall  and  then  taking 
the  double-quick  across  a  field  or  "open"  —  in  every 
possible  way  shielding  themselves  from  the  fire  of  the 
enemy,  but  always  pushing  forward  and  shrinking  from 
no  necessary  danger. 

Whenever  pickets  were  stationed  there  was  not  a  mo- 
ment of  rest  until  a  little  fortification  had  been  thrown  up 
at  each  post  that  would  stop  musket  balls.  Rails,  logs, 
stones,  were  hastily  piled,  and  with  bayonets,  tin-cups 
and  plates,  or  anything  that  would  scratch  up  the  ground, 
holes  were  dug  and  the  dirt  was  used  to  strengthen  the 
work.  Back  at  the  main  line  all  hands  were  busy,  eacll 
regiment  covering  its  front  with  a  strong  intrenchment. 
Assaults  were  made  by  the  enemy  with  scarcely  a  mo- 
ment's warning,  and  the  men  toiled  with  their  guns  slung 
over  their  shoulders.  Often  when  the  work  of  intrenching 
was  but  half  done  the  sharp  crack  of  muskets,  the  zip  and 
patter  of  bullets  and  the  wild  rebel  3^ell  sent  the  soldiers 
scampering  into  line  to  meet  the  onset.  After  repulsing 
the  enemy  a  counter-charge  was  likely  to  follow,  and  the 
instant  a  halt  was  ordered  the  men  fell  to  and  in  an  in- 
credibly brief  time  would  have  another  long  line  of  Avorks, 
behind  which  they  eagerly  w^atched  for  the  foe.  A  few 
axes,  picks  and  shovels  were  carried  by  each  regiment,  and 
for  hasty  intrenching  were  invaluable.  During  the  early 
years  of  the  war  these  menial  implements  had  been  re- 
garded with  ineffable  scorn  and  contempt.  In  1864  a 
shovel  was  as  indispensable  as  a  coffee-pot.  Frequently, 
as  the  troops  changed  their  positions,  two  or  three  heavy 
lines  of  works,  miles  in  length,  were  thrown  up  in  a  day. 
Weariness  and  hunger  were  not  thought  of  until  the  forti- 


THE  OUESTION   OF  v'^UPPIJES.  697 

fying  was  done.  Then,  with  their  muskets  in  iiand  or 
slung  upon  their  backs,  the  soldiers  would  quickly  start 
their  little  fires  for  making  coffee  and  toasting  bacon. 

The  supply  of  rations  during  such  a  campaign  was 
somewhat  precarious.  To  feed  an  army  of  a  hundred 
thousand  men  and  thirt}^  thousand  animals,  and  keep  it 
in  ammunition  and  other  things  needful,  required  at  least 
one  hundred  and  thirty  car  loads,  of  ten  tons  each,  per 
day.*  These  had  to  be  transported  a  long  distance  over 
a  single  line  of  railroad  every  mile  of  which  must  be 
guarded.  It  w^as  the  constant  effort — often  successful — of 
the  enemy's  cavalry  to  "cut  the  cracker-line,"  by  making 
wide  detours  around  the  Union  army  and  by  sudden 
dashes  tearing  up  the  railroad,  burning  bridges  and  blow- 
ing up  culverts.  These  interruptions  occasionally  made  it 
necessary  for  the  soldiers  to  be  put  on  half  rations. 

In  that  wonderful  army  were  multitudes  representing 
all  the  learned  professions  and  mechanical  trades.  Men 
carried  swords  and  muskets  who  could  preach  a  sermon, 
argue  a  case  at  law,  amputate  a  leg  or  edit  a  news- 
paper. There  were  soldiers  who  could  build  a  bridge,  put 
up  and  operate  a  telegraph  line,  or  make  anything,  from 
a  watch  to  a  locomotive.  To  provide  for  contingen- 
cies a  corps  of  engineers  and  mechanics  was  organized, 
w^hose  special  duty  it  was  to  repair  the  ravages  of  the 
Confederate  raiders  and  keep  intact  the  slender  thread  of 
communication  between  the  great  army  in  the  field  and 
its  remote  base  of  supplies.  So  promptly  and  efficiently 
was  this  important  service  performed  that  when  a  short- 
age in  the  supply  of  hardtack  and  bacon  told  the  army 
that  there  was  another  break,  it  was  rarely  more  than 
two  or  three  days  till  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive,  as  it 
went  puffing  up  to  the  front,  set  the  soldiers  to  yelling  like 
lunatics. 

•    s^herman's  Memoirs.   Vol.  IT,  d.  1 1. 


598  NO  MORE   ''all  quiet"  SEASONS. 

THis  was  the  way  the  soldiers  lived  and  marched  and 
fought  during  that  bloody  year,  that  filled  so  many  graves, 
but  conquered  the  rebellion.  It  was  not,  as  before,  an  oc* 
casional  battle,  with  long  intervals  of  ''all  quiet  on  the 
Potomac,"  the  Tennessee  and  the  Mississippi — when  the 
soldiers  spent  their  time  in  lying  idly  under  the  trees  or 
building  forts  and  breastworks  far  in  the  rear — when  if 
the  hostile  armies  moved  at  all  it  was  in  the  effort  to 
keep  out  of  each  other's  way  and  avoid  a  collision.  It  was 
a  continuous  fight,  month  after  month.  No  man,  on  open- 
ing his  eyes  in  the  morning,  was  secure  in  the  belief  that 
before  night  he  would  not  be  dead  and  buried,  or  a  subject 
for  the  knife  and  saw  of  the  surgeon.  Not  an  hour — a  mo- 
ment— of  life  was  assured.  The  impressive  truth  that  ''In 
the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death  "  has  no  such  meaning  to 
those  dwelling  under  peaceful  skies  as  it  had  to  the  brave, 
patient  thousands  who  spent  the  long  days  and  nights  on 
the  outposts  and  in  the  trenches,  amidst  blazing  muskets 
and  belching  cannon. 

It  was  upon  this  life  that  Si  entered  that  pleasant  May 
morning.  Company  Q  of  the  200th  Indiana  was  on  the 
skirmish-line  and  had  not  advanced  far  till  it  found  enough 
in  front  to  engage  its  undivided  attention.  The  rebel 
pickets,  as  if  they  realized  the  aggressive  spirit  that  was 
henceforth  to  animate  the  opposing  army  and  were  deter- 
mined to  follow  suit,  stubbornly  contested  the  advance 
and  yielded  nothing  except  on  compulsion.  But  the  da^- 
had  gone  by  when  a  spasmodic  fusillade  on  the  skirmish- 
line  would  cause  the  Union  army  to  halt,  establish  and  for- 
tify its  position,  and  wait  to  be  attacked.  "Go  right  for 
'em,  boys ! "  was  the  word  passed  along  the  line,  and  they 
went. 

"This  is  business!"  said  Si  to  Shorty,  as  they  darted 
from  one  tree  to  another,  stopping  for  a  moment  to  fire 
whenever  they  could  see  a  "butternut "  to  shoot  at.     "  We 


GOING  FOR     EM. 


59< 


ain't  goin'  ter  have  no  more  nonsense  with  them  fellers. 
We're  jest  goin'  in  ter  win  now." 

Behind  the  skirmishers  marched  the  compact  battalions, 
w^th  steady  step  and  the  touch  of  elbows  that  always 
gave  the  soldier  confidence.  Each  man  knew  that  he  could 
trust  his  comrades,  upon  the  right  and  upon  the  left.  They 
had  long  marched  and  fought  side  by  side.  The  leaders  of 
that  army  needed  no  assurance  that  those  well-seasoned 
regiments  and  brigades  and  divisions  would  be  equal  to 


ON  THE   SKIRMISH  LINE. 


every  demand  that  might  be  made  upon  them.  It  took 
three  years  to  create  such  an  army,  but  when  that  veteran 
host  moved  forward,  with  perfect  mutual  confidence  be- 
tween the  soldiers  and  their  commanders,  it  was  invincible. 

During  its  march  the  army  reached  a  river,  broad  and 
deep.  All  bridges  over  it  had  been  destroyed  by  the  re- 
treating enemy.  Two  years  earlier  the  army  would  have 
halted  for  a  w^eek  while  the  means  for  crossing  were  being 
provided.    Now  it  was  not  so. 

*'How  we  goin'  ter  git  any  furder?  "  exclaims  Si,  as  he 


600  "PONTONIERS  TO  THE  FRONT  !  " 

and  Shorty  arrive  at  the  bank  and  drop  behind  a  log  to 
escape  the  bullets  that  come  singing  over.  *'  Fm  'feard  we 
wouldn't  make  much  headway  swimmin'  'th  all  these 
traps  on.  Looks  's  though  we'd  have  ter  knock  off  fer 
todaj.^' 

*'Wait  a  little  while  'n'  see,"  replies  Shorty.  ''There's 
more  'n  one  way  ter  skin  a  cat." 

One  of  the  generals,  accompanied  by  a  staff  officer  or 
two,  rides  up.  When  within  range  of  the  hostile  muskets 
he  dismounts  and  gliding  from  one  tree  to  another  ad- 
vances to  the  stream. 

"  Thegin'rals  dodges  same  's  we  do,  don't  they,  Shorty?  " 
says  Si. 

"Course  they  does.     They  can't  help  it  no  more  'n  you 
'n'  me  kin.    It's  the  sensiblest  thing  a  feller  kin  do  som^ 
times." 

A  single  glance  tells  the  officer  what  is  to  be  done,  and 
he  scurries  back  to  the  rear.  When  it  is  necessary  he  will 
face  without  flinching  a  sheet  of  flame,  though  he  fall  be- 
fore it,  but  now  he  does  well  to  avoid  the  flying   bullets. 

"Pontoniers  to  the  front !  " 

Away  gallops  one  of  the  staff  to  bring  up  the  train  of 
wagons  bearing  the  pontons — or  pontoons  as  they  were 
universally  called.  The  "pongtong"  of  the  Frenchman 
was  not  suited  to  the  vocal  organs  of  the  American  soldier. 

The  enemy  on  the  farther  bank  shows  his  teeth  and  is 
making  ominous  preparations  to  dispute  the  passage  of 
the  river.  On  this  side  batteries  are  ordered  into  position 
to  cover  the  laying  of  the  bridge.  A  brigade  is  advanced 
to  the  river,  w^here  the  men  quickly  throw  up  a  barricade 
of  logs,  rails  and  earth.  There  is  brisk  firing  from  both 
sides.  Neither  force  can  advance  upon  the  other,  and  it  is 
simply  a  question  which  has  the  greater  "nerve"  and 
steadiness  to  endure  the  fire  of  its  adversary. 

Meantime  a  thousand  men  with  axes  are  clearing  a  road 
to  the  point  chosen  as  the  most  favorable  for  the  bridge. 


2UICK,   SHARP  WORK.  601 

With  a  celerit}'  little  less  than  marvelous  they  fell  trees, 
roll  away  logs,  and  open  a  pathway.  Here  comes  the 
pontoon  train,  and  the  soldiers  set  up  a  mighty  shout 
as  the  reeking  mules  plunge  forward  under  stinging  lash 
and  maddening  yell.  With  them  come  the  pontoniers,  at 
a  double-quick,  responding  lustily  to  the  vociferous  greet- 
ings of  their  comrades.  Here  and  there  a  mule  falls,  struck 
by  a  bullet  that  comes  flying  over,  but  ready  knives  slash 
the  harness  and  cut  him  loose,  and  the  rest  dash  furiously 
on. 

Now  batteries  open  and  muskets  blaze  along  both  the 
river  banks.    The  pontoniers  stack  arms  and  strip  off  their 
accouterments  that  they  may  work  without  incumbrance. 
They  cannot  stop  to  use  their  muskets  and  must  go  through 
the  ordeal  of  being  under  fire  without  being  able  to  return 
it.    There  is  no  more  trying  position  in  which  soldiers  can 
be  placed.     They  must  work  rapidly,   for  every  moment 
brings  sacrifice  of  life  and  limb.     The  covering  force  re- 
doubles its  fire  as  the  pontoniers  spring  to  the  pontoons 
and  lift  them  from  the  wheels.    The  boats— frames  of  wood 
covered  with  heav\'  oiled  canvas— are  borne  to  the  brink 
of  the  stream.    One  by  one  they  are  launched  and  floated 
to  their  positions.    The  connecting  timbers  are  speedily 
put  in— for  every  stick  has  been  fitted  to  its  place.    A  hun- 
dred men  complete  the  work,  as  each  successive  boat  is 
secured,  by  laying  the  planking  of  the  roadway,  soon  to 
resound  with  the  tread  of  those  eager  battalions.    Long 
ropes,  stretched  diagonally  to  the  shore  above,  prevent  the 
bridge  from  being  carried  down  by  the  current. 

All  this  time  cannon  are  hurling  shot,  shell  and  canister, 
and  the  air  seems  filled  with  hissing  bullets.  Much  of  the 
enemy's  fire  is  directed  at  the  pontoniers.  Many  of  these 
are  stricken  down  and  lie  helpless  in  the  boats,  or  fall  into 
the  water  and  are  borne  away  by  the  tide.  Some  are 
dead  when  they  fall ;  others,  disabled  by  cruel  wounds, 
perish  in  the  stream.    But  war  and  death  are  inseparable. 


602 


A  RUSH  FOR  THE  OTHER  SmE. 


The  work  must  not  stop  for  an  instant,  and  for  every 
brave  pontonier  that  falls  a  score  of  willing  volunteers  are 
ready  to  seize  the  plank  or  the  oar  that  has  dropped  from 
his  grasp. 

Imagination  cannot  picture  a  scene  of  wilder  uproar  and 
confusion.  The  noise  of  artillery  and  musketry  is  inces- 
sant, to  which  are  added  the  yells  of  the  excited  men,  for  it 
is  not  easy  to  ''keep  cool"  with  such  surroundings.  Offi- 
cers shout  their  orders  in  vain ;  no  words  can  be  heard  in 
the  awful  din.    But  it  matters  little,  for  those  trained  sol- 


LAYING  A  PONTOON  BRIDGE  XJNDER  FIRE. 

diers  not  only  know  what  to  do  but  they  have  the  mag- 
nificent heroism  to  do  it,  and  amidst  the  roar  and 
crash,  the  wild  shout  and  the  scream  of  pain,  the  work 
goes  steadily  and  surely  on. 

Down  on  the  fast-lengthening  bridge  are  Si  and  Shorty, 
working  with  might  and  main,  unmindful  of  the  bullets 
that  patter  around  them  and  bury  themselves  in  the 
planks  they  carry.  They  are  among  those  who  so 
[promptly  volunteered  to  fill  the  places  made  vacant,  and 
'none  are  more  active  and  efficient  than  they.    It  is  a  new 


ALWAYS  FORWARD.  603 

Sphere  of  labor  and  a  new  test  of  courage,  but  there  is  not 
a  thought  of  quailing. 

Now  the  bridge  stretches  almost  to  the  farther  shore, 
and  the  water  is  but  hip  deep. 

''Fall  in  200th  Indiana!  Forward  —  Double-quick — 
March!'' 

.  The  brave  colonel  dashes  ahead  and  the  men  follow  with 
a  yell.  Their  swift  feet  clatter  upon  the  planks  and  the 
floating  bridge  sways  and  throbs  under  their  tread.  Fast 
and  furious  is  the  fire  of  the  Union  batteries  to  cover  the 
perilous  passage.  Unmindful  of  the  bullets  that  are  thin- 
ning the  ranks  the  men  push  on,  leap  into  the  water  and 
scramble  up  the  bank.  No  human  power  can  stay  their 
progress.  They  throw  themselves  upon  the  enemy  and 
break  his  line.  Another  regiment  has  followed,  and 
another.  To  right  and  left  they  charge  the  hostile  force, 
which  yields  before  the  onslaught  and  flees  in  dismay. 
The  crossing  is  secured.  The  bridge  is  quickly  finished, 
and  for  hours  it  quivers  beneath  the  marching  feet  of  end- 
less brigades  and  divisions,  and  the  rumbling  wheels  of 
artillery  and  wagons  freighted  with  material  to  suppl}^  all 
the  enginery  of  war. 

Thus  the  barrier  was  passed,  and  the  eyes  of  the  enemy 
were  opened  to  the  spirit  that  animated  and  nerved  the 
Union  army  during  that  final  struggle — a  spirit  that  found 
true  expression  in  those  historic  words  of  the  great  Cap- 
tain, w^hich  were  an  inspiration  to  the  soldiers  and  to  the 
patient,  praying  millions  at  home :  ''I  propose  to  fight  it 
out  on  this  line  if  it  takes  all  summer." 

Day  after  day  the  campaign  went  on.  Week  after  week 
the  soldiers  marched  with  their  faces  to  the  foe,  or  stood 
in  the  trenches  with  loaded  muskets.  Behind  the  fortified 
lines  they  dug  ''gopher-holes"  in  which  they  slept,  to 
avoid  the  plunging  shot  from  the  enemy's  cannon.  Time 
and  again  they  flanked  him  out  of  his  chosen  positions  in 
the  mountain  fastnesses,  and  forced  him  across  deep  and 


I  know  you  are  ti-red  but  still  you  must  go; 

Iw 

V      Ik.      IV          V    _v 

1 

IP               ^.        r-.        p             J  '        1  ' 

"     fc.        k.     iL                 '1 

MM     d   '     '     m 

h     c    ^  J         1 

.  .  •     • 

'-^■.--J— ^— ^ J 

604  "  ATTENTION  i' 

rapid  rivers.  When  a  halted  column  was  called  to  **  atten- 
tion" the  men  sprang   to  their   places,   singing  to    the 

strains  of  the  bngle:        a p^ p^ 

Every  hour  the ^£g|=Hv^ J^^^/  ^  ^3^;^^^=:^=^ 
work  of  death  was    *^      ^  '  '  *    ^  ~^~ 

going  on  at  some 
point  in  the  long  and 
sinuous  line.      Rail- 

1  .   1  Down  to  At-lan    -  ta  to      see    the  big  show. 

way    trams    which 

-  -    ,  i«         r  "attention!  " 

brought  supplies  lor 

the  army  returned  freighted  with  the  dead  and  the  dying, 
and  with  prisoners  taken  from  the  enemy.  On  and  still 
on  pressed  the  resolute  army  ;  patiently  and  cheer- 
fully the  soldiers  discharged  every  duty  and  faced  every 
danger. 

The  enemy,  maddened  and  desperate,  vainly  sought  to 
stay  the  advance  of  the  victorious  legions.  Brigades  and 
divisions  defiantly  hurled  themselves  against  the  Union 
intrenchments,  and  pounced  with  the  utmost  fury  upon 
marching  columns.  The  long  track  of  the  armies  was 
one  great  bcttle-field.  Everywhere  the  trees  were  scarred 
and  riven  by  the  missiles  from  musket  and  cannon,  and 
the  reddened  earth  became  a  place  of  burial  for  brave  men. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

An  Unexpected  Calamity  Befalls  Corporal  Klegg  and  his 

Comrade. 

IT  was  a  hot  midsummer  day.  The  200th  Indiana  was 
in  the  front  line  and  Company  Q  was  on  picket.  Si 
and  Shorty  lay  in  a  rifle-pit  which  they  had  dug  where 
they  were  stationed,  the  night  betore.    Under  cover  of  the 


BEHIND  FORT  KLEGG.  605 

darkness  they  had  strongly  intrenched  themselves,  crown- 
ing the  work  with  a  small  "head-log."    It  took  them  till 
midnight  to  finish  it,  but  they  were  amply  repaid  for  their 
labor  in  knowing  that  they  were  well  fixed  for  the  next 
day,  provided  the  army  did  not  advance.    With  the  confi- 
dence inspired  by  their  repeating  rifles,  they  knew  that  no 
mere  skirmish-line  of  the  enemy  could  drive  them  from 
their  position.    Shorty  named  it  ''Fort  Klegg."    During 
the  rest  of  the  night  they  kept  vigil,  with  eyes  and  ears, 
their  trusty  rifles  in  hand  for  instant  use.    Now  and  then 
one  of  them  slept  for  a  few  minutes,  but  was  quick  to 
spring  at  the  lightest  touch  of  his  watchful  comrade.    In 
all  that  long  line  of  videttes,  miles  in  extent,  no  eyes  were 
more  keenly  alert  than  those  which  peered  over  the  para- 
pet of  Fort  Klegg. 

Daylight  came,  and  the  crickets  chirruped  in  the  grass 
and  the  birds  twittered  and  sang  in  the  trees.  The  thirsty 
rays  of  the  morning  sun  drank  up  the  dew  that  sparkled 
for  a  moment  and  then  was  gone.  The  muskets  along  the 
hostile  lines  were  silent.  The  discordant  sounds  of  war 
were  hushed  in  the  strange,  oppressive  quiet  that  often 
preceded  the  bursting  storm.  The  army  did  not  move,  and 
the  pickets  were  cautioned  to  the  utmost  watchfulness. 
It  was  deemed  probable  that  the  enemy  would  attack,  for 
his  position  was  so  menaced  that  he  must  either  fight  or 
abandon  it. 

Si  and  Shorty,  in  turn,  ate  their  breakfast  of  hardtack 
and  raw  bacon,  washing  it  down  with  the  tasteless  water 
that  had  been  in  their  canteens  since  the  previous  day ;  for 
no  fires  could  be  lighted  on  the  outposts.  An  hour  passed 
—and  another— and  another.  Still  they  kept  their  eyes  to 
the  front,  watching  for  the  first  sign  of  the  expected  at- 
tack. The  sun  climbed  toward  the  zenith  and  beat  down 
with  scorching  fierceness. 

"I  b'lieve  I'm  beginnin' ter  fry !"  said  Si,  as  he  lay  swelter- 
ing^ in  the  hot,  dry  air,  with  the  perspiration  flowing  in 


606 


SIGHTING  THE  ENEMY. 


rivulets  from  every  part  of  his  body.  ''I  kin  jest  hear  the 
grease  a-sizzlin'  out  o'  me.  I  reck'n  it's  a  good  thing  fer 
me  't  I  ain't  so  fat 's  I  was  when  I  'listed  er  I'd  melt  'n'  run 
off  in  a  stream.    Purty  hot,  ain't  it  ?  " 

''Ye're  mighty  right!  "replied  Shorty.  "Ef  I'm  any  good 
at  guessin'  we'll  have  it  a  diff 'runt  kind  o'  hot  'fore  night. 
I'll  bet  the  Johnnies 'sup  to  suthin'n'  'tain't  no  tomfoolery, 
nuther,  er  they  wouldn't  be  so  quiet  's  they've  been  this 
mornin'." 
"  Thar  they  come,  now,  Shorty!"  suddenly  exclaims  Si, 

as  he  thrusts  the  muz- 
zle of  his  rifle  through 
^%^^^^u^  the-  crevice    below  the 

^"^^'^'^^^^^"''"^-^^^^-^  head-log,  draws  up  the 

hammer,  and  places  his 
finger  on  the  trigger. 
''Look  at  the  raskils 
pilin'  over  that  stun 
wall  'n'  leggin'  it  this 
way.  Seems  's  if  they 
was  comin'  mighty 
thick.  Let's  hold  on 
t'll  they  git  a  leetle 
furder  'n'  then  we'll 
pepper  'em.  Our  guns 
's  got  sixteen  shots 
FORT  KLEGG.  apiccc,    'u'   wc'll  make 

'em  think  we're  a  hull  rijiment.  Ain't  I  glad  we  bought 
these  'ere  Henrys !     They're  jest  the  boss  guns." 

Si  chatters  away,  scarcely  knowing  what  he  says.  The 
rebels  are  half  a  mile  distant,  at  the  edge  of  a  large  field. 
With  their  muskets  at  a  "trail"  they  take  the  double- 
quick  and  make  their  way  rapidly  toward  the  Union 
pickets.  Behind  the  heavy  line  of  skirmishers  come  the 
solid  battalions  massed  for  a  furious  assault. 

**\Ye  don't   Vv^ant   ter  stay  here   too    long,"  suggests 


THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  GRAYCOATS.         '  607 

Shorty,  '"cause  ye  know  we  can't  fight  the  hull  rebel 
army;  'n'  'sides  that  our  fellers  back  't  the  works  can't 
open  on  *em — ^leastways  they  won't  want  ter — ^till  arter 
we  gits  back." 

Shorty  is  the  cooler  of  the  two,  and  takes  in  the  whole 
situation.  Si  only  thinks  of  making  the  most  of  his  op- 
portunity— for  rarely  had  so  good  a  one  been  offered  him — 
to  use  his  repeating  rifle  to  advantage. 

''That's  all  right,  Shorty;  we'll  have  lots  o'  time  ter  git 
back  arter  we've  guv  'em  our  sixteen  pills  apiece.  They 
look  kinder  sick  'n'  I  'low  our  medis'n'  '11  do  'em  good. 
They're  comin'  so  thick  't  we  can't  miss  'em  'n'  we'll  jest 
have  a  picnic!" 

"You're  my  commandin'  ossifer, Si,  'n'  I'm  goin'  ter  stay 
t'U  you  says  the  word.  But  we'll  hafter  git  up  'n'  dust 
when  we  do  start." 

On  and  on  come  the  soldiers  in  gray.  Those  in  the  ad- 
vance are  half-way  across  the  intervening  space,  and  are 
fast  nearing  the  chain  of  rifle-pits.  With  eyes  almost 
bursting  from  their  sockets,  Si  watches  their  approach. 
His  heart  thr(?bs  wildly ;  the  hot  blood  leaps  through  his 
veins ;  his  cheek  is  aflame  with  the  fervid  glow  of  excite- 
ment. The  impatient  pickets  on  the  right  and  left  begin 
the  fire. 

*'Now  sock  it  to  'em,  Shorty,"  exclaims  Si,  as  he  glances 
quickly  along  the  barrel  of  his  rifle  and  a  bullet  speeds 
firom  Fort  Klegg. 

As  they  encounter  the  fire  from  the  outposts  the  rebels, 
not  pausing  to  use  their  muskets,  bend  their  heads  to 
the  ^storm,  quicken  their  steps,  and  break  forth  in  a  mad 
yell. 

The  hands  of  Si  and  Shorty  fly  nimbly  as  they  work 
their  repeaters  to  their  utmost  capacity.  Fast  speed 
the  deadly  missiles.  Every  one  seems  to  take  effect  in 
that  charging  mass,  at  rapidly  shortening  range.     Now 


608  '      "  THE  PHILISTINES  BE  UPON  THEE !  " 

the  rebels  are  so  near  that  Si  can  see  the  very  white  of 
their  eyes. 

''Plug  it  into  'em!"  he  shouts.  ''We're  droppin'  'em 
right  'n'  left."  And  he  works  with  redoubled  ardor  till 
the  last  shot  in  his  magazine  has  been  fired.  "Now*, 
Shorty,  let's  climb  out  o'  this!" 

Si  has  been  too  brave,  and  has  permitted  his  zeal  to  out- 
run his  judgment.  He  has  thought  of  nothing  but  doing 
the  greatest  possible  execution,  and  does  not  know  that 
on  the  right  and  left  the  pickets  wisely  fell  back  to  the 
main  line  after  the  first  volley  into  the  face  of  the  foe.  The 
rapid  and  persistent  fire  from  Fort  Klegg  has  checked 
somewhat  the  advance  in  its  immediate  front,  but  on  both 
flanks  the  rebels  have  swept  on  and  are  swarming  in  the 
rear  of  the  little  fortification  that  has  been  so  gallantly 
defended. 

As  Si  and  Shorty  turn  to  retreat  they  are  amazed 
to  find  themselves  covered  by  half  a  dozen  muskets, 
with  loud  demands  for  immediate  and  unconditional  sur- 
render. At  the  same  instant  men  in  gray,  with  gleam- 
ing bayonets,  storm  the  now  silent  work,  leap  over  the 
head-log,  and  close  in  upon  the  hapless  garrison. 

Breathless  and  dumfounded.  Si  is  for  the  instant  speech- 
less. It  is  one  of  those  critical  moments  which  admit  of 
no  delay .  Something  must  be  said  or  done  instantly  or  it 
will  be  the  last  of  Corporal  Klegg  and  his  faithful  pard. 
Shorty  comprehends  the  emergency,  and  sees  at  a  glance 
that  there  is  but  one  thing  that  the  bravest  man  can  do 
under  such  circumstances.  He  throws  up  his  hand  in  token 
of  surrender,  and  he  and  Si  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Philis- 
tines. 

Si  had  not  yet  recovered  his  senses.  The  scenes  had  been 
shifted  so  suddenly  that  he  was  bewildered.  He  could  not 
comprehend  that  he  was  really  a  prisoner.  Never  in  all  his 
service  as  a  soldier  had  the  thought  of  surrender  once  en- 
tered  his  mind. 


SI  AT  LENGTH  CAPITULATES. 


609 


Half  a  dozen  Confederates  sprang  forward,  each  of  them 
rager  to  secure  such  a  prize  as  a  Henry  rifle. 

'*  You  jest  leggo  that  ar  gun,  will  ye!  "  said  Si  with  em- 
phasis, as  one  of  them  seized  his  weapon  and  tried  to  wrest 
it  from  his  grasp,  ''/hain't  s 'rendered  yet,  'n'  ef  ye'll  jest 
gimme  two  minutes  ter  load  up  my  rifle  I'll  fight  the  hull 


r  r 


on  ye! " 

Si's  face  fairly  blazed  in  the  intensity  of  his  indignation 
and  wrath.  Prudence 
was  net  one  of  his  car- 
dinal virtues,  and  at 
that  instant,  if  he  could 
have  refilled  his  maga- 
zine Avith  cartridges  he 
would  have  defied  a 
regiment  of  gra^xoats. 

"  Steady,    thar,    my 
boy ! "  exclaimed  Shor- 
ty.   "  Ye  can't  help  yer 
self   'n'  ye've  got    ter  '' 
cave." 

"  I'll    bring   him    to 
Limerick !"  said  a  burly  ^ 
Confederate,  as  he 
placed  the  muzzle  of  his 
musket    to   Si's  head.  compelled  to  surrender. 

"Now  drap  that  thar  gun  'n'  hold  up  yer  hands  right 
quick,  you  Yank,  er  ye'll  be  a  dead  man  'n  three 
seconds! " 

"Don't  shoot,  Johnny,"  pleaded  Shorty.  "Let  up  on 
him  'n'  I'll  bring  him  'round.  Ye  see  he  ain't  nothin'  but 
a  boy,  but  he's  chuck  fullo'  sand.  He's  got  steam  uppurty 
high,  but  he'll  git  blowed  off  d'reckly  'n'  then  he'll  cool 
down.     'Twon't  do  ye  no  good  ter  kill  him." 

By  this  time  Si  had  yielded  to  the  inevitable.  Looking 
into  the  muzzle  of  that  loaded  musket,  he  wisely  deter- 


610  A  COSTLY  VICTORY. 

mined  not  to  pursue  the  argument.  The  other  fellow  * '  had 
the  drop  on  him,"  and  he  gave  a  signal  of  capitulation. 
His  feelings  overcame  him  as  he  saw  his  beloved  rifle,  that 
had  served  him  so  well,  pass  into  the  hands  of  an  enemy, 
and  tears  of  sorrow  and  vexation  streamed  down  his 
face. 

''Git  right  out  o'  this,  Yanks!"  said  one  of  the  rebels, 
who  had  been  directed  to  march  the  prisoners  to  the  rear. 
"Ye  hain't  got  no  time  ter  stan'  here  snivelin'.  Now 
travel !'' 

Under  the  persuasive  influence  of  a  glistening  bayonet 
Si  and  Shorty  moved  off  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"  Looks  's  though  it  had  cost  'em  suthin  ter  capcher  you 
'n'  me!"  said  Shorty  to  his  comrade  in  an  undertone, 
pointing  to  a  dozen  or  fifteen  of  the  enemy  who  were  lying 
dead  or  wounded  within  the  range  of  Fort  Klegg.  It  was 
evident  that  most  of  their  shots  had  taken  effect. 

''I'd  ruther  I  hadn't  seen  'em,"  said  Si,  "  'cause  it  makes 
me  feel  bad,  arter  all,  ter  know  I've  killed  any  on  'em,  even 
ef  they  is  rebels.  Ye  know  they're  all  human  bein's  'n'  I 
can't  git  it  outen  my  head  't  it's  jest  'bout  the  size  o'  mur- 
der. Mostly  when  we're  in  a  big  fight,  'n'  all  on  'em  's 
bangin'  away,  a  feller  don't  know  whether  he  hits  anybody 
er  not ;  but  ther'  ain't  no  chance  ter  feel  that  way  'bout 
this  'ere  scrimmage  we  had.  Alebbe  you  killed  'em  all, 
Shorty." 

"I  don't  keer  'f  you  think  so,  Si.  I  ain't  so  squeamish 
's  you  be,  'n'  I  kin  stan'  it.  The  faster  they  's  killed  off  the 
quicker  it'll  wind  up  the  job." 

"I  s'pose  ther'  ain't  no  denyin'  that,  Shorty,  but— I 
don't  reck'n  God  meant  ter  have  me  fer  a  soljer,  er  he  'd 
ha  made  me  difif'runt." 

"I  don't  see  how  he  could  ha'  done  a  better  job  ef  he'd 
made  ye  to  order ! "  replied  Shorty. 

They  walked  over  the  field  at  a  moderate  pace.  The 
•*  Johnny  "  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with  his  detail  to  march 


THE  SOLDIERS  WERE  HUMAN.  611 

them  back,  and  was  seemingly  in  no  hurry  to  finish  the 
duty.  Possibly  he  indulged  the  hope  that  the  fight  would 
be  over  before  he  should  rejoin  his  regiment.  Little  won- 
der if  he  did. 

Generally  speaking,  there  was  no  feeling  of  personal 
enmity  between  the  soldiers  of  the  Union  and  Confederate 
armies.  They  learned  thoroughly  to  respect  one  another 
for  their  courage  and  fighting  qualities,  and  war  did  not 
make  them  savages  or  wild  beasts.  The  instincts  of  hu- 
manity may  have  been  deadened  in  some  cases,  but  in 
others  they  were  made  more  keen  by  the  sight  of  human 
suffering,  and  rarel}^  indeed,  did  the}^  wholly  disappear. 
Even  in  the  fiercest  heat  of  battle,  it  was  not  often  that 
soldiers  on  either  side  indulged  in  wanton  killing.  No 
doubt  life  was  sometimes  taken  in  a  way  that  was  simply 
atrocious  murder  ;  for  it  would  be  strange  if  among 
two  or  three  millions  of  men,  leading  a  life  that,  at  its 
best,  had  a  tendency  to  arouse  the  basest  passions,  there 
were  not  some  to  whom  the  quality  of  mercy  was  un- 
known. Every  year  hundreds  of  crimes,  equally  revolting, 
are  committed  by  men  whose  breasts  are  not  inflamed  by 
the  fires  of  war.  As  a  rule,  Avhen  a  man  was  wounded  or 
a  prisoner  he  was  no  longer  an  enemy.  The  last  cracker 
and  the  last  drop  in  the  canteen  would  be  freely  shared 
with  a  suffering  foeman.  It  will  be  understood  that  these 
observations  are  intended  to  apply  to  the  soldiers  in  the 
field,  who  marched  and  fought,  giving  and  taking  hard 
blows.  Such  were  the  characteristics  of  Aese  men,  on 
both  sides,  "with  few  exceptions. 

"You-unsfout  mighty  well  'hind  that  thar  breastwork 
o'  yourn,''  said  the  guard,  byway  of  scraping  up  an  ac- 
quaintance with  his  prisoners. 

"We  made  it  's  warm  fer  ye  's  we  could,''  replied  Si.  His 
temperature  had  fallen  several  degrees,  and  his  tongue  was 
getting  into  its  normal  condition. 

**  When  we  was  chargin'  up  thar  ye  made  us  b'lieve  thar 


612  AN  OFFER  TO  NEGOTIATE. 

was  a  hull  comp'ny,  with  them  dog-goned  guns  o'  youm^ 
^t  ye  loads  up  on  Sunday  'n'  then  shoots  'em  all  the  week» 
What  sort  o'  killin'  machines  be  they,  anyway  ?  I've  heem 
tell  on  'em  but  I  never  seen  one  afore." 

*^Pard,"  said  Si,  '^  didn't  git  that  rifle  f'm  the  guvy- 
ment.  She  b'longster  me,  'cause  I  bought  her  'th  my  own 
money  't  I  arned  a-hoofin'  it  'n'  fightin'  rebs.  Ef  she  was 
Uncle  Sam's  property  it  'd  be  all  right  fer  ye  ter  hang  on 
to  her,  but  bein'  'tain't  ye  ought  ter  give  her  back." 

The  guard  was  carrying  the  two  Henry  rifles  on  his 
shoulder.  The  Confederates  did  not  know  how  to  use 
them,  nor  would  they  be  of  any  service  without  a  supply 
of  ammunition  made  especially  for  them.  The  rebel  soldier 
did  not  coincide  with  Si's  views  on  the  question  of  owner- 
ship. He  held  to  the  idea,  almost  imiversally  prevalent  in 
both  armies,  that  under  any  and  all  circumstances,  with- 
out regard  to  the  claims  of  friend  or  foe,  anything  belonged 
to  whoever  had  it.  Possession  was  more  than  ''nine 
points  in  law  "—it  was  the  law  itself. 

*'I  'low  ter  have  one  o'  them  guns,  myself,"  said  the 
guard.  ''When  we  git  back  a  leetle  furder  I'll  ax  ye  to 
shell  out  whatcatridges  ye  got,  'n'  then  yell  have  ter  show 
i^ie  how  the  old  thing  works." 

This  put  a  thought  into  Si's  head,  and  he  nudged  Shorty 
suggestively  with  his  elbow  as  he  said :  ♦ 

"I'll  tell  ye  what  I'll  do,  Johnny,  'n'  less  see  'f  we  can't 
make  a  barg'in.  I'll  give  ye  my  repeater  'n'  all  the  cat- 
ridges  both  on  us  's  got,  'n'  show  ye  how  ter  shoot  'em, 
ef  ye'll  shet  yer  eyes  fer  jest  two  minutes.  I'll  do  's  much 
sometime  fer  you.'' 

"  Ye'd  like  ter  git  away,  wouldn't  ye  ?  I'd  git  myself  in 
a  purty  pickle.  I'd  hate  ter  do  it,  but  ef  ye  try  any 
monkey-shines  'th  me  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  ye.  I  reck'n 
I've  got  a  tollable  sure  thing  on  this  'ere  gun  'n'  yer  am'ni- 
tion." 

Shorty  smiled  at  his  comrade's  offer  to  negotiate  for 


FAILURE  OF  THE  ASSAULT.  613 

freedom.  Although  he  had  given  no  hint  to  Si  he  had  sev- 
eral times  carefully  swept  the  field  with  his  eye,  and  calcu- 
lated the  possibilities  of  escape.  He  was  ready  to  take  any 
hazard,  and  knew  well  enough  that  he  could  depend  upon 
Si.  But  the  stragglers  and  army  followers  were  too 
numerous  in  all  directions  to  allow  the  slightest  hope  of 
success.  The  impatient  captives  could  only  bide  their 
time,  trusting  that  an  opportunity  might  be  offered. 

But  no  opening  was  presented,  and  Si  and  Shorty  were 
delivered  into  the  custody  of  an  officer  whose  duty  it  was 
to  receive  prisoners,  and  who  had  at  command  an  ample 
force  to  guard  them  securely.  Before  leaving  them  their 
escort  relieved  Si  and  Shorty  of  the  ammunition  for  their 
rifles,  and  required  them,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  to 
instruct  him  in  the  use  of  the  weapons.  Si  groaned  in 
spirit  at  the  thought  of  their  guns  being  aimed,  perhaps, 
at  his  own  comrades  of  the  200th  Indiana. 

All  this  time  had  been  borne  to  their  ears  the  roar  of 
battle.  The  rapid  boom  of  artillery  and  the  sharp,  rolling 
volle^^s  of  musketry  told  of  hard  fighting.  The  rebel 
wounded  streamed  to  the  rear  or  were  borne  back  upon 
stretchers.  Both  Si  and  Shorty  were  eager  to  know  the 
result. 

'"How's  it  goin'  ?"  Si  asked  of  a  Confederate  soldierwho 
came  limping  back  with  a  bullet  hole  through  his  leg. 

'' Bully  fer  our  side!"  was  the  reply.  ''WeVe  only  been 
fallin'  back  ter  draw  ye  on,  'n'  you-all  's  goin'  ter  git  the 
gosh-durnedest  lickin'  today  ye  ever  heern  tell  on." 

Si  ventured  to  remark  that  he  didn't  believe  it.  A  few 
minutes  later  there  was  abundant  evidence  that  his  faith 
in  the  200th  Indiana  and  the  other  regiments  guarding 
the  point  assailed  was  well  grounded.  Stragglers  in  an 
advanced  stage  of  demoralization  were  seen  emerging 
from  the  woods  and  making  their  way  across  the  field  at 
the  highest  attainable  speed.  Thicker  and  faster  they 
came,  and  soon  a  disordered  swarm  of  Confederate  troops 


614?  A  TIME  TO  KEEP  STILL. 

was  struggling  to  the  rear.  The  assault  had  failed^ 
The  conflict  was  short,  sharp  and  decisive.  The  air  re- 
sounded with  the  mad  yells  and  curses  of  the  defeated  sol- 
diers, while  in  the  distance  could  be  heard  the  triumphant 
shouts  of  the  ''Yankees,"  as  they  pressed  closely  upon  the 
heels  of  the  fleeing  foe. 

''Jest  look  at  the  Johnnies,  Shorty,"  said  Si,  as  he  and 
his  comrade  stood,  excited  and  breathless,  watching  the 
tide  of  fugitives  as  it  swept  toward  them.  "  List'n  at  our 
fellers  a-yellin' !  I  knowed  they'd  lick  the  raskils.  Can't 
ye  hear  the  boys  o'  Comp'ny  Q  hollerin'  ?  Don't  I  wish  't 
I  ^was  thar  'th  my  rifle  ?  Who-o-o-o-p ! ' ' 

Si  started  to  yell,  but  was  checked  by  Shorty. 

"Better  load  down  yer  safety-valve.  Si,  'n'  not  be 
shootin'  off  yer  mouth  too  much.  These  rebils  '11  come 
back  purty  mad  'cause  they  didn't  git  thar,  'n'  ef  ye  go  ter 
yellin"n'  prancin'  'round,  like  as  not  one  on  'em '11  be  mean 
'nough  to  punch  ye  with  his  bay 'net.  I  feel  like  hollerin' 
myself,  but  thar  is  times  when  the  best  thing  a  feller  kin. 
do  is  ter  hold  in,  'n'  this  's  one  on  'em." 

Around  them  everything  was  in  the  wildest  confusion. 
Other  troops  were  being  hurried  up  to  cover  the  retreat  of 
the  regiments  that  had  melted  into  a  disordered  mass,  for 
the  moment  uncontrolled  and  uncontrollable.  Staff  dfli- 
cers  and  orderlies  dashed  madly  about  with  orders  for  the 
emergency.  The  little  squad  of  prisoners — for  there  were 
others  besides  Si  and  Shorty — seemed  to  be  forgotten. 

"Shorty,"  said  his  comrade  in  a  low  voice,  "wouldn't 
ther'  be  a  livin'  chance  fer  us  ter  git  out  o'  this.  The 
Johnnies  'pears  ter  have  'bout 's  much  business  on  hand  's 
they  kin  'tend  to,  'thout  botherin'  the'r  heads  'th  us.  Ef 
ye  want  ter  try  it  I'm  ready." 

"I've  been  thinkin'  'bout  it.  Si,  'n'  I'm  keepin'  my  eye 
skinned  fer  an  openin'.  You  leave  it  ter  me,  'n'  when  I 
poke  ye  'n  the  ribs  you  foUer  me  's  tight  's  ever  ye  kin,  'n' 
we'll  break  fer  the  timber.    I  reck'n  they'll  send  a  few  bul- 


SHORTY  GETS  A  RAP. 


615 


lets  chasin'  arter  us,  but  I'd  ruther  take  the  chances  o'  git- 
tin' hit  than  ter  be  lugged  off  ter  one  o'  them  prisons  we've 
heern  so  much  'bout.    Now  watch  out  I" 

More  wild  grew  the  tumult  around  them  as  the  receding 
wave  of  battle  tossed  about  the  debris  of  the  shattered 
column.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  shouts  of  the  Union 
soldiers,  rapidly  advancingin  a  determined  counter-charge. 
The  disorganized  Confederates  rushed  frantically  about, 
each  bent  on  seeking  his  own  safety,  while  the  officers  vainly 
strove  to  rally  and  re- 
form their  broken  bat-  ^-^^  ^I^^^SP^^"^'^^'''^ '' ""^ 
talions.  It  was  one  of 
those  panics  that  at 
times  demoralized  the 
bravest  men. 

''  Now !  "  whispered 
Shorty,  as  he  touched 
Si  with  his  hand,  and 
they  darted  away 
through  the  hurry- 
ing throng  of  men 
in  gray.  It  was  a 
desperate  chance,  but 
Shorty  hoped  that 
they  might  make  their 
way  through  the  rush 
and  whirl  and  reach 
the  Union  lines. 


A  FRUITLESS   DASH. 


''Stop  them  Yanks!"  shouted  the  guards  from  whom 
they  had  escaped. 

An  instant  later  Shorty  was  felled  to  the  ground  by  a 
blow  upon  the  head  from  the  butt  of  a  musket.  Si  stopped 
to  look  after  his  comrade,  and  they  were  at  once  over- 
powered. Shorty  was  stunned  foi  a  moment,  but  not 
seriously  hurt.  He  was  half  dragged  along,  and  he  and  Si 
"were  again  in  the  custody  of  the  guards. 


616  PRISONERS  TO  THE  REAR. 

*'What  are  these  Yanks  doing  here?"  shouted  an  officer 
who  came  galloping  up.  "  Why  don't  you  take  'em  to  the 
rear.  Be  Hvely  about  it !  They're  all  we've  got  to  show 
for  this  day's  work,  and  we  can't  afford  to  lose  'em !" 

Away  they  went,  urged  to  the  double-quick  by  the  bay- 
onets of  the  guards  behind  them.  On  came  the  solid  lines 
of  a  fresh  Confederate  division  that  had  been  ordered  to 
the  breach,  marching  with  brave  and  confident  step.  It 
checked  the  advance  of  the  Union  troops,  and  served  as  a 
wall,  behind  w^hich  the  fragments  of  the  regiments  that 
had  been  torn  and  broken  by  the  fruitless  assault  were 
rallied  around  their  colors,  and  a  semblance  of  order  was 
restored. 

In  such  a  campaign,  with  its  daily  recurring  attacks  and 
flank  movements,  prisoners  w^ere  not  long  kept  at  the 
front  of  either  army.  They  w^ere  an  incumbrance  to  active 
movements,  and  there  w^as  liability  of  escape  or  recapture. 
For  these  reasons  they  were  hurried  to  the  rear. 

Nightfall  found  Si  and  Shorty  and  their  companions  in 
captivity  miles  away  from  the  place  w^here  they  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Shorty  was  not  disabled  by 
the  blow  he  had  received,  though  there  was  a  lump  on  his 
head  as  large  as  a  door-knob. 

When  they  went  into  bivouac  for  the  night  Si  naturally 
began  to  inquire  about  rations.  Nothing  remained  in  his 
haversack  except  a  few  broken  bits  of  hardtack.  He  had 
painful  misgivings  on  this  score,  for  he  had  heard  that  the 
Southern  Confederacy  did  not  provide  a  sumptuous  bill  of 
fare  for  its  prisoners  of  war ;  and  that  in  quantity  it  was 
not  up  to  the  demands  of  the  average  human  stomach. 

Si  waited  a  reasonable  time,  with  as  much  patience  as 
he  could  command,  and  then,  there  being  no  visible  signs 
of  a  banquet,  he  concluded  to  put  out  a  feeler. 

'^Say,  pard,"  he  said  to  one  of  the  guards,  ''how  long 
'fore  supper  's  goin'  ter  be  ready?  I'm  gittin'  mighty 
hungry." 


THE  SUPPER  QUESTION.  6i7 

*'I'll  take  yer  order.  What'U  ye  have — eyester  stew, 
Toast  beef,  roast  turkey,  spring  lamb  *n'  peas,  er  pork  'n' 
apple-sass — anything  you-all  want;  we  keeps  a  reg'lar 
hotel  here,"  and  the  guard  laughed  heartily  at  his  tan- 
talizing humor. 

"I  guess  yeVe  jokin',  Johnny,"  replied  Si,  "but  I  ain't  a 
hit  pertickler,  only  so  it's  suthin  t'  eat  'n'  plenty  on  it." 

"Wall  I  kin  tell  ye,  Yank,  't  ye  won't  git  nothin'  t'night. 
We  hain't  got  no  more  'n  jest  'nough  ter  go  'round  fer  we- 
uns,  'n'  desp'rut  poor  stuff  't  that.  You-all  gits  right 
smart  better  grub  'n  we  does,  'n'  I  'low  ye'll  have  tercome 
down  apeg  ertwo  'n  yereatin'  fer  a  bit.    Got  any  coffee? " 

"I'm  purty  nigh  busted  on  coffee.  Ef  I'd  knowed  I  was 
goin'  ter  be  snatched  bald-headed  I'd  ha'  laid  in  a  s'ply. 
I  hain't  got  more  'n  'nufif  fer  a  couple  o'  drawin's. 
^T won't  last  no  longer  'n  termorrer." 

"I'm  'feard  't won't  last  ye  that  long,  pard,  'cause  / 
^want  it  right  now,  powerful  bad.  It's  so  long  sence  I  had 
a  swig  o'  coffee  't  I've  fergot  what  't  tastes  like." 

"  Wha-a-a-t !  "  said  Si,  "ye  ain't  goin'fer  to  take  that,  ar* 
ye?" 

"That's  'bout  the  bigness  on  it.  You  heerdwhat  I  said, 
'n'  I'll  trouble  ye  to  fork  it  over." 

Si's  anger  rose  at  the  thought  of  such  an  indignity.  He 
cast  an  appealing  look  at  Shorty,  as  if  to  ask  what  he 
had  better  do  about  it. 

"Let  'em  have  it,  Si,''  said  his  comrade.  "You  'n'  me 
made  a  good  squar'  fight  today,  but  we  got  everlastin'ly 
whipped 'n'ther'  ain't  no  way  but  ter  take  the  consekences. 
They've  got  ye  foul,  pard,  'n'  ye  cant  help  yerself." 

It  went  against  the  grain  with  Si  to  give  up  his  coffee, 
iDut  the  gentle,  suggestive  prod  of  a  bayonet  quickened  his 
movements,  and  he  surrendered  to  the  Confederate  the  rag 
in  which  it  was  tied.  A  similar  requisition  was  made  on 
Shorty,  which  was  honored  without  a  murmur. 

"Id  like  ter  kick,  too,"  he  said  to  Si,  "but  'tain't  no  use. 


618  COFFEE — FOR  THE  JOHNNIES. 

It'll  only  make  things  wuss,  'n'  I'm  goin'  ter  grin  'n'  b'ar 
it." 

He  found  an  opportunity  to  whisper  in  Si's  ear  that  he 
was  going  to  watch  very  sharp  for  a  chance  to  get  away. 

*^Some  o'  the  boys  what  gits  capchered  does  make  the 
riffle,"  he  said,  **  'n'  ef  they  kin  we  kin." 

The  thought  of  escape  was  uppermost  in  Si's  mind,  and 
served  to  assuage  the  grief  and  chagrin  he  felt  at  being  a 
prisoner.  The  startling  and  rapid  events  of  the  day  had 
left  him  little  time  for  reflection  upon  the  fate  that  had  be- 
fallen him,  but  he  had  determined  to  make  the  best  of  it^ 
and  was  cheered  by  the  belief  that  he  and  Shorty  would 
contrive  some  way  to  regain  their  libert}^  They  had  tried 
once  and  failed  but  this  only  made  him  the  more  eager 
for  another  effort. 

''Hello,  Johnny,"  he  said,  as  he  saw  the  despoiler  of  his 
haversack  making  a  kettle  of  coffee  at  a  fire  near  by, 
**  would  't  be  any  more  'n  fa'r  ter  give  me  a  few  swallers 
o' that  coffee?" 

"Ye  kin  have  all  't  's  left  arter  we-uns  gits  filled  up.  Ye 
hadn't  better  calkilate  on  gittin'  much,  fer  we  don't  git 
sich  a  chance  's  this  only  purty  durned  seldom.  You-uns 
has  dead  loads  o'  coffee,  'n'  'twon't  hurt  ye  ter  go  'thout 
fer  a  while.  We  hain't  had  nothin'  fer  a  year  but  chickery 
'n'  baked  peas  'n'  sich." 

Si  and  Shorty  turned  their  haversacks  inside  out  and 
devoured  the  last  crumb  they  contained.  The  prospect 
before  them  was  such  as  to  fill  their  minds  with  con- 
sternation. This  feeling  was  intensified  when,  after  the 
guards  had  drained  the  coffee-kettle,  one  cf  them  came  up 
to  Si  and  said,  with  an  imperious  air : 

''You  Yank,  come  up  out  o'  them  shoes !" 

"What's  that  ye  say?" 

"I  'lowed  I  was  talkin'  plain  'nough  fer  ye  ter  under- 
stand.   I  want  ye  ter  take  off  them  shoes !" 

"What  fer?    I  don't  feel  like  turnin'  in  yet." 


A  VICTIM  OF  THE  SPOILEP.  619 

** 'Cause  I  want  'em/"  said  the  Confederate,  with  em- 
phasis. 

"Now,  pard,  ye  oughtn't  ter  rob  a  feller  that  way  jest 
'cause  ye  got  the  whip-row  on  'im.  I  wouldn't  do  that 
way  to  you  ef  the  boot  was  on  t'other  leg.  I  only  jest 
drawed  them  gunboats  a  few  days  ago,  'n'  I  can't  git 
'long  'thout  'em,  nohow." 

"I  seen  they  was  purty  nigh  new,  'n'  that's  why  I  want 
'em.  I  reck'n  they're  'bout  my  ^ize.  I'm  only  goin'  ter 
trade  with  ye.  I'll  give  ye  mine  fer  'em,  'n'  ye  know  a  even 
exchange  ain't  no  robbery.  Ther'  ain't  nothin'  mean 
'bout  me." 

''But  yourn  ain't — " 

"We  ain't  gwine  ter  have  no  argyment.  Thar  ain't 
nothin'  ter  be  said  on  your  side.  I  ^vant  them  shoes  'n' 
I'm  goin'  ter  have  'em,  'n'  that  settles  it.  I  know  mine 
ain't  quite  's  good  's  yourn,  but  you  kin  w'ar  'em  jest  's 
well  's  I  kin.  Now  shuck  them  hoofs,  'n'  ye  don't  wan't 
ter  be  all  night  doin'  it,  nuther." 

The  impatient  voice  of  the  guard  and  his  menacing  pos- 
ture, left  no  room  for  doubt  that  the  debate  was  closed. 
The  motion  to  exchange  was  carried,  for  although  it  was 
a  tie  as  between  Si  and  "Johnny,"  the  latter 's  loaded 
musket  and  fixed  bayonet  had  the  casting  vote,  and 
another  victory  was  scored  for  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

While  Si  was  untying  his  shoes  some  things  came  into 
his  mind  that  he  would  have  liked  to  say,  but  on  the  whole 
he  thought  he  wouldn't. 

"Them  socks  o'  yourn  's  purty  fa'r,"  said  the  rebel, 
"better  skin  'em  off  while  ye're  'bout  it.  I'll  have  ter 
borry  them,  'cause  I  hain't  got  none  ter  give  ye  fer  'em." 

Si  cast  a  despairing  look  at  Shorty,  and  then  proceeded 
to  take  off  the  dainty  hose  with  which  the  government 
had  provided  him. 

"Thar,"  said  the  guard,  when  his  feet  were  encased  in 
his  newly  acquired  property,  "that  feels  better.    Now  you 


620  ENFORCED 

kin  put  them  on  ef  ye  want  ter.    Ef  ye  don't  I  reck'n  ye'Il 
have  ter  go  bar'fut,  same  's  we  does  sometimes." 

''Them"  were  a  pair  of  nondescript  articles  which,  like 
the  earth  before  the  work  of  creation  was  finished,  were 
**  without  form  and  void."  They  showed  some  symptoms 
•of  having  been  once  intended  to  serve  as  shoes.  They 
Tvere  of  the  rudest  manufacture.  Army  service  had  made 
sad  havoc  with  them  and  they  were  in  the  last  stages  of 
-dilapidation  and  decay. 

'"Fore  I'd  fight  fer  a  guvyment  't  didn't  do  no  better  by 
me  'n  that !"  said  Si,  as  he  eyed  them  contemptuously. 

"Looka-hyar,  Yank,  you  don't  want  fer  to  talk  like 
that ;  'twon't  be  healthy  fer  ye.  We've  got  you-uns  durned 
nigh  licked,  'n'  we  don't  'low  ter  go  'th  bar'  feet  'n'  empty 
stummicks  much  longer.  But  we  don't  w^ant  none  o'  yer 
insiniwations !" 

Si  thrust  his  stockingless  feet  into  the  mouths  of  those 
Confederate  shoes,  making  wry  faces  as  he  noted  the  holes 
and  gaping  seams. 

"Ye'd  better  tie  these  yere  strings  'round  yer  feet  ter 
hold  them  shoes  on!  "  said  the  guard.  "I've  been  a-doin* 
that  fer  a  month  back." 

After  Si  had  acted  upon  this  suggestion  he  could  not 
help  laughing,  in  spite  of  himself,  at  the  grotesque  appear- 
ance of  his  feet.  He  expressed  the  hope  that  he  would  not 
have  to  do  much  marching  in  those  shoes. 

"We're  goin'  ter  put  ye  on  the  keers  termorrer,"  replied 
the  guard,  "'n'  run  ye  off  down  south,  whar  ye  won't 
have  no  chance  ter  git  away.  Them  old  shoes  is  purty 
nigh  played  out.  They  ain't  no  good  fer  marchin',  but 
they  '11  do  's  well  's  any  fer  ridin'  on  the  railroad.  By  the 
way,  Yank,  I  b'lievel'll  swap  hats  with  ye.  I  know  yourn 
's  better  'n  mine ;  ef  'twasn't  I  don't  reck'n  I'd  want  ter 
trade." 

Si  cast  a  glance  of  decided  disapproval  at  the  rebel 
uoldier's  hat,  which  was  faded  and  worn  and  battered. 


WHERE   SI    ''had  HIM.'^  621 

While  he  was  considering  the  advisability  of  opening  ^ 
discussion  his  hat  was  lifted  from  his  head  by  the  guards 
who  offered  his  own  in  exchange.  It  was  a  fitting  com- 
panion for  the  shapeless  things  that  adorned  Si's  lower- 
extremities, 

"Now,  pard,"said  Si,  "ef  ther's  anything  else  't  ye  want 
I'll  thank  ye  ter  say  what  'tis  right  now,  'n'  less  have  this 
tradin'  business  done  with.  I've  got  rayther  the  wust  o' 
the  barg'inso  fur,  but  I  Hketerbeaccommerdatin'.  Mebbe 
ye'd  like  ter  have  my  shirt !  " 

Si  nursed  with  much  satisfaction  the  thought  of  gettino- 
his  shirt  upon  the  back  of  his  persecutor.  It  would  be  a 
prime  opportunity  to  revenge  himself.  Weeks  of  hard 
campaigning  and  lying  in  the  trenches  found  his  nether 
garment  in  a  condition  of  unusual  animation.  The  Con- 
federate had  a  kind  of  fellow-feeling  on  this  point,  and  he 
replied : 

"I  don't  b'lieve  I  keer  fer  a  dicker  o'  that  sort,  unsight 
'n'  unseen;  its  too  resky.  Mine's  bad  'nuff,  'n'  I  'low  I 
hadn't  better  take  no  chances  on  gittin'suthinaheapwuss. 
I  don't  Avant  no  more  graybacks,  but  ef  ye  got  any  green- 
backs ye  better  be  a-shellin'  on  'em  out." 

"I've  got  yethar,  Johnny,"  replied  Si  with  a  triumphant 
smile.  "We  hain't  seen  no  money  in  a  dog's  age.  Paymas- 
ters 's  mighty  skurce  whar  the  bullets  's  zippin'  'round.  The 
climate  don't  agree  with  'em !  " 

"Like  's  not  ye're  lyin'  to  mc,  Yank,  'n'  ef  ye'll  scuse  me. 
I'll  jest  see  'f  ye've  got  any  cash  in  yer  clothes." 

"Ye're  a  spreadin'  of  it  on  purty  thick,"  said  Si,  but  he 
submitted  meekly  to  the  search,  knowing  that  the  result 
would  be  a  full  vindication  of  his  veracity. 

"Thar,  what'd  I  tell  ye,"  he  said,  when  the  rebel  had  ex- 
plored all  his  pockets  and  carefully  examined  his  clothing 
to  be  sure  that  there  was  none  concealed  under  the  lining. 
**P'r'aps  ye'll  b'lieve  me  next  time ! " 
''That's  all  right  ef  ye  hain't  got  none;  but  this  vere  's. 


622 


REJECTED  OVERTURES. 


a  purty  good  jack-knife.    I'm  needin'  one,  'n'  I'll  jest  take 
it  'n'  we'll  call  it  squar'.    I'm  much  'bleeged  to  ye." 

Shorty's  meager  supply  of  goods  and  chattels  had  been 
subjected  to  a  similar  process,  and  sundry  articles  had 
gone  to  replenish  the  wardrobe  of  another  of  the  guards. 
Both  Si  and  Shorty  found  themselves  in  decidedly  reduced 
circumstances.  They  were  thankful  that  the  ravage  of 
the  Confederates  had  spared  their  blankets. 

''We'll  let  ye  keep  them,"  said  one,  ''I  reck'n  ye'll  need 

'em  when  ye  git 
down  in  the  pen." 
**  Lemme  see!" 
said  the  sergeant 
in  charge  of  the 
guards  to  Si  and 
Shorty,  as  they 
were  spreading 
down  their  blank- 
ets by  the  fire, '  'ye're 
the  chaps 't  tried  so 
hard  ter  git  away 
today,  ain't  ye  ?  I'll 
give  ye  faV  Avarnin' 
't  I  ain't  goin'  ter 
have  ye  playin'  any 
o'  3^er  Yankee  tricks 
on  me.  Efye'llgi^e 
me  yer  word,  'pc^n 
honor,  't  ye  won't 
cut  up  no  capers  t'night  that'll  settle  it.  Ef  ye  won't  I'll 
have  ter  tie  ye  up,  cause  I'm  'sponsible  fer  you-all  'n'  I'm 
goin'  ter  make  a  sure  thing  on  't." 

''We  sha'n't  promise  nothin',"  replied  Shorty.  "A  feller 
what's  a  pris'ner  's  got  a  right  ter  git  away  ef  he  kin. 
It's  your  business  ter  see  't  he  don't.  'Tain't  reggelations 
ibr  ye  to  go  ter  tyin'  on  us  up,  nuther,  same  's  ef  we  was 


A   ONE-SIDED    BARGAIN. 


BOUND  HAND  AND  FOOT.  623 

thieves  ^n'  cut-throats.  Ye  ought  ter  git  some  han'cufifs 
ter  clap  onter  prisoners  when  ye  capchers  'em  !  " 

*'I  don't  keer  whether  it's  'cordin'  ter  Hoyle  er  not;  it's 
goin'  ter  be  did  'nless  ye '11  gimme  yer  word." 

*'  Nary  time !     Go  ahead  with  yer  tyin' !  '' 

Shorty  saw  by  the  flickering  firelight  that  Si's  face  was 
ablaze  with  indignation.  It  would  be  just  like  him  to  fight 
the  entire  squad,  with  such  primitive  weapons  as  nature 
had  supplied.  Shorty  found  opportunity  to  whisper  in 
his  comrade's  ear : 

''Don't  make  any  fuss,  Si ;   do  jest  's  I  tell  ye !  " 

The  sergeant  produced  some  pieces  of  stout  rope  and 
^th  the  help  of  two  or  three  of  the  guards  tied  together 
Shorty's  hands  and  then  his  feet.  Si's  breast  heaved  and 
his  eyes  flashed,  but  remembering  Shorty's  admonition  he 
checked  his  volcanic  tendencies,  by  a  mighty  effort,  and 
when  his  turn  came  to  be  bound  he  submitted  without  a 
word.    But  his  thoughts  were  raging. 

"Thar,"  said  the  sergeant,  when  the  work  was  finished, 
*'I  'low  ye  won't  git  very  fur  away  'fore  mornin'.  Ef  ye'd 
'have  yerselves  'n'  act  sort  o'  decent  we'd  treat  ye  white, 
but  we  b'ar  down  hard  on  them  as  tries  ter  give  us  the 
slip." 

''That's  all  right,  pard,"  replied  Shorty,  "efye'll  jest 
kiver  us  up  'th  that  thar  blanket." 

The  sergeant  spread  the  blanket  over  the  captive 
Hoosiers,  as  they  lay  utterly  helpless,  bound  hand  and 
foot.  The  hearts  of  their  fellow  prisoners  revolted  at  the 
scene,  but  it  would  have  been  worse  than  useless  to  re- 
monstrate. They  disposed  themselves  upon  the  ground 
for  the  night,  and  the  guards  were  divided  into  reliefs,  part 
of  them  to  sleep  while  the  rest  paced  to  and  fro  around  the 
motley  bivouac. 

Si's  thoughts  ran  over  the  events  of  the  day.  It  was  the 
first  chance  he  had  had  to  think  since  the  Confederate:  nost 
swept  over  Fort  Klegg.    He  tried  hard  to  reconcile  him- 


624  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE- 

self  to  his  condition  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  but  the  more  he 
tried  the  more  marked  was  his  failure.  How  his  mother 
and  sister  Maria  and  pretty  Annabel  would  feel  if  they 
knew  his  situation.  And  then  to  think  of  Company  Qand 
the  rest  of  the  200th  Indiana  marching  on  without  him. 
There  he  was,  tied  up  like  a  miscreant,  surrounded  by 
rebel  bayonets,  and  his  cherished  rifle  in  the  hands  of  a 
foeman.  It  was  too  much  for  Si,  and  his  goaded  feelings 
found  relief  in  a  torrent  of  tears.  His  comrade's  mind  was 
busy  as  well,  but  it  took  a  more  practical  turn  and  dwelt 
only  upon  the  possibilities  of  escape. 

•*Ye  feel  kinder  leak^^  don't  jQ,  pard?"  he  said,  scarcely 
above  a  whisper,  when  Si  began  to  overflow.  "I  thought 
it  'd  hit  ye  in  yer  weak  spot.  I  don't  blame  ye  fer  takin' 
on,  but  ye  wants  ter  cheer  up,  'cause  we're  goin'  ter  git 
out  o'  this  sometime.  P'r'aps  'twon't  be  t'night,  ner 
t'morrer,  ner  next  day,  ner  next  week,  but  ef  we  keep  our 
eyes  peeled  we'll  see  a  hole  sometime 't  we  kin  git  through. 
I  know  ye'll  brace  up.  Si,  fer  ye  alius  does.  We're  in  a 
tight  place,  but  a  bar'l  o'  tears  won't  help  git  us  out." 

**Yer  head  's  level,  Shorty,"  repied  Si,  as  soon  as  he 
could  command  his  feelings.  "I  ax  yer  parding.  I 
didn't  mean  ter  act  like  a  baby,  but  I  jest  couldn't  help  it. 
I  tell  ye  what.  Shorty,"  he  continued,  after  communing 
with  himself  for  a  moment,  "I'd  like  ter  be  Samson,  't  I 
used  ter  read  'bout  'n  the  Bible,  fer  jest  five  minnits.  I'd 
bust  these  tarnal  ropes,  'n'  then  I'd  take  the  jaw-bone  of  a 
mule,  same  's  he  did,  'n'  I'd  lay  out  these  raskils." 

"  That  'd  be  a  fust-rate  scheme  ef  it  'd  work,  but  I  don't 
b'lieve  't's  wuth  while  fer  ye  ter  try  it  On.  We  ain't  both 
on  us  's  much  's  Samson's  little  finger  jest  now." 

The  captives  were  tied  at  the  wrists  but  their  fingers 
were  measurably  free.  After  a  little  time  Shorty  began 
to  pick  at  the  rope  that  bound  Si's  arms.  He  worked 
very  carefully,  under  the  blanket,  and  for  a  long  time  the 
tightly  drawn  knots  baffled  his  efforts.    He  finally  sue- 


THE  CORDS  LOOSED.  625 

ceeded  in  loosening  the  cord,  and  Si  found,  to  his  great 
joy,  that  his  hands  were  free.  Then  he  proceeded  to  untie 
his  comrade. 

'*Be  mighty  keerful,"  said  Shorty,  '"n'  keep  the  blanket 
still.  I  heern  the  sargeant  tell  the  guards  ter  keep  a  sharp 
eye  on  us." 

Si's  patient  labor  was  at  last  rewarded  and  Shorty's 
arms  were  no  longer  confined.  To  free  their  feet  was  a 
more  diflicult  task,  as  they  could  not  be  reached  without 
a  disturbance  of  position  that  w^ould  be  likeh^  to  attract 
attention. 

''Double  yerself  up  like  a  jack-knife.  Si,"  whispered 
Shorty.  "Git  yer  feet  's  fur  this  way  's  ye  kin;  but  do  it 
slow  —  'n  inch  't  a  time  —  so  them  fellers  won't  s'pect 
nothin'." 

Very  carefully,  little  by  little.  Si  drew  up  his  knees  until 
the)'  almost  touched  his  chin.  Shorty's  arms  were  pretty 
long,  and  by  hitching  himself  down  he  managed  to  reach 
the  cord. 

"I  wish  't  I  had  my  knife  't  that  raskil  stole  from  me,'* 
eaid  Si,  "  'n'  we'd  make  a  quick  job  on  't." 

"Mine  'd  do  jest  's  well  'f  I  had  it,"  replied  Shorty,  "but 
one  o'  them  fellers  's  got  it.  You  hoi'  still  a  bit  'n'  I'll 
fetch  it." 

The  knots  were  stubborn  but  they  yielded  to  Shorty's 
dexterous  fingers.  It  took  half  an  hour  for  Si  to  get  him- 
self straightened  out  and  Shorty  to  pull  his  feet  up  where 
Si  could  reach  them.  At  length  the  last  cord  was  loosed, 
and  they  had  not  been  detected. 

"Now,  Si,"  said  Short)',  "ef  ye  say  so  we'll  try  'n'  make 
a  break.  The  rest  o'  the  pris'ners  's  all  sleepin',  'n'  so  's 
the  guard  reliefs.  Them  't  's  on  the  beats  's  purty  weU 
tuckered  out,  'n'  they're  set'n  down  'n'  noddin'.  They 
think  we're  all  tied  up.  Ef  we  try  it  'n'  they  see  us,  course 
they'll  shoot  'n'  fhe  old  scratch  '11  be  ter  pay.    It's  mighty 


(5j^6  up  and  away. 

ticklish  business,  Si,  'n'  I  don't  ax  ye  ter  take  the  chance 
o'  dodgin'  the  bullets  'nless  ye  wants  ter." 

''I'll  jest  jump  at  it,  pard,"  said  Si,  who  had  listened  with 
intense  eagerness.  ''When  ye're  ready  gimme  a  hint  'n* 
I'll  foller  ye  wherever  ye  go.^' 

They  lay  quiet  for  an  hour,  and  then  Shorty  very  care- 
fully raised  his  head  and  peered  around.  It  was  long  past 
midnight.  There  was  no  moon,  and  the  dim  light  of  the 
twinkling  stars  scarcely  penetrated  the  foliage  of  the  trees 
to  relieve  the  darkness  of  the  forest.  The  fire  burned 
dimly  and  the  forms  of  friend  and  foe  lay  motionless  in 
slumber.  Even  the  sentries  had  yielded  to  fatigue  and 
were  dozing  in  forbidden  dalliance  with  the  drowsy  god. 
It  seemed  possible  for  the  two  captives  to  dash  past  the 
sleepy  guards  and  in  an  instant  be  lost  to  sight  in  the  dark 
wood. 

"Shall  we  try  it,  Si?"  he  asked,  after  he  had  explained 
the  condition  of  affairs  to  his  comrade. 

"  Yes !"  was  the  whispered  reply,  and  Si's  heart  throbbed 
violently  at  the  thought  of  another  bold  dash  for  liberty. 
"Shall  we  take  'long  our  blankets  ?  " 

"I  reck'n  not,"  said  Shorty;  "they'd  bother  us  runnin'. 
We'll  leave  'em  fer  bail.     Come  on,  quick !  " 

Springing  to  their  feet  they  leaped  over  their  sleeping 
comrades  and  bounded  away  like  deer  into  the  darkness. 
Their  movement  made  little  noise,  but  it  was  enough  to 
arouse  one  of  the  guards  to  a  consciousness  that  some- 
thing was  out  of  joint.  Starting  up  and  looking  wildly 
about  he  saw  the  disarranged  blankets  where  Si  and 
Shorty  had  been  lying.  Then  his  eye  caught  the  fast  re- 
ceding forms  of  the  fugitives.  Before  he  could  bring  his 
musket  to  his  shoulder  they  were  otit  of  sight  among  the 
trees. 

Yelling  "Halt,  there!  "  at  the  top  of  his  voice  he  sent  a 
bullet  whistling  after  them.  In  an  instant  everybody  was 
on  his  feet  and  the  little  bivouac  was  a  scene  of  the  wildest 


A  FRUITLESS  CHASE.  627 

uproar.  The  sergeant  cursed  the  guards  who  had  per- 
mitted the  prisoners  to  escape,  and  while  they  were  mak- 
ing up  their  minds  what  to  do,  Si  and  Shorty  were  speed- 
ing away  at  a  pace  that  defied  successful  pursuit. 

Obedient  to  the  command  of  the  sergeant,  two  or  three 
of  the  guards  dashed  after  the  runaways.  More  could  not 
be  spared,  as  it  was  necessary  to  watch  the  rest  of  the 
prisoners  and  prevent  a  further  deliverance.  The  irate 
sergeant  ordered  his  men  to  look  to  their  arms,  and  to 
shoot  down  instantly  any  who  might  atteinpt  to  escape. 

The  pursuers  had  a  bootless  chase.  They  beat  about  in 
a  frantic  way  among  the  trees  and  through  the  bushes, 
yelling  and  firing  their  pieces.  All  this  evinced  their  zeal  in 
the  search,  but  did  no  harm  to  Si  and  Shorty.  The  latter 
had  taken  a  circuitous  route  and,  once  fairly  away  in  the 
darkness,  had  no  difficulty  in  completely  baffling  their 
enemies. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

In  WmcH  Si  and  Shorty  Experience  Many  Vicissitudes,  but  thew 
Pluck  Brings  them  Through. 

BY  the  time  Si  and  Shorty  had  reached  a  safe  distance 
they  were  thoroughly  ''blown,"  and  crept  into  a 
thicket  to  recover  breath  and  to  consult  regarding  future 
movements.  Thus  far  they  had  scarcely  spoken  since  they 
began  their  flight,  intent  only  on  putting  as  much  distance 
as  possible  between  themselves  and  their  misguided  fellow- 
citizens  in  ''butternut." 

"Purty  good  job,  that,"  said  Si,  as  he  lay  panting  on 
the  ground,  scarcely  daring  to  speak  above  a  whisper.  ' '  I 
never  made  that  many  tracks  so  quick  afore  in  my  life." 


G28  TREY  RECONNOITER. 

''We've  made  a  good  start,  Si,"  replied  Shorty,  ''but  ye 
mus'n't  crow  t'll  ye're  out  o'  the  woods.  Gittin'  away 
was  easy  'nough  arter  we  got  clear  o'  the  guards.  We 
sha'n't  have  no  trouble  t 'night;  the  rub  '11  be  when  't 
comes  daylight.  I'm  all  twisted  up  'n  these  woods,  'n'  I 
hain't  no  idee  what  d'rection  we'd  orter  go  ter  find  our 
fellers.  Ef  we  knew  which  way  'n'  could  go  straight  thar 
'twouldn't  take  long,  but  ye  know  we  can't  go  plumb 
through  the  rebel  army.  We've  got  ter  work  'round  one 
eend  o'  their  line,  some  way  er  ruther.  'Twon't  be  no  soft 
snap,  I  kin  tell  ye.  I  'low  we  can't  do  better  'n  ter  stay 
here  t'll  it's  light  so  we  kin  git  our  bearin's.  I  ain't  afeard 
o'  them  raskils  findin'  us  's  long  's  it's  pitch  dark;  'n' 
mebbe  they  won't  make  much  fuss  'bout  it  nohow,  fer  they 
won't  want  ter  own  up  't  they  let  us  git  away  so  easy. 
'N'  they  thought  they  had  us  so  dead  with  them  pesky 
^opes!" 

They  remained  in  their  place  of  concealment,  considei 
<ng  what  they  should  do  when  daylight  came,  and  trying 
to  decide  upon  the  best  possible  course  of  action.  There 
was  little  fear  that  they  would  be  molested  by  any  of  the 
squad  from  which  they  had  escaped.  The  guards  had  a 
lot  of  prisoners  on  their  hands,  and  would  think  it  useless 
to  search  for  the  two  fugitives,  supposing  them  to  be 
miles  away. 

With  the  first  appearance  of  dawn,  Shorty  began  to  cast 
about  for  the  purpose  of  reconnoitering. 

"We've  got  ter  find  out  how  the  land  lays,"  he  said  to 
tiis  companion,  "'fore  we  kin  tell  what  't's  best  ter  do. 
We  ain't  goin'  ter  run  foul  o'  the  rebs  ef  we  kin  help  it." 

The  increasing  light  revealed  open  ground  at  no  great 
distance.  Si  and  Shorty  moved  cautiously  toward  the 
edge  of  the  wood. 

"Thar,"  said  Shorty,  "I'm  goin'  ter  shin  up  this  tree  'n' 
squint  'round  a  bit.    You  watch  out  sharp  fer  any  o'  the 


SHORTY  "gets  HIS  BEARINGS."  629 

Johnnies  't  mout  be  a-loafin'  here'bouts.    Whistle  ef  ye  se^ 
aH3^  on  'em." 

Shorty  was  a  nimble  climber  and  was  soon  among  the 

top  limbs  of  a  tree  that  commanded  a  good  view  of  the 

surrounding  country.    It  scarcely  need  be  said  that  S: 

kept  a  sharp  lookout  in  all  directions.     Three  or  four  miles 

away  Shorty  saw  a  long  line  of  smoke,  evidently  from  the 

breakfast  fires  of  the  Confederate  army.     There  were  none 

of  the  enemy  in  sight  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  but  in  the 

distance  he  could  see  what  seemed  to  be  an  encampment. 

When  he  had  finished  his  observations  he  descended  and 

hurriedly  told  Si  what  he  had  seen.     Their  only  hope  of 

success  lay  in  attempting  a  wide  detour  around  one  of  the 

enemy's  flanks,  and  thus  reaching  the  Union  lines.     Such  a 

journey  was  perilous  in  the  extreme,  fraught  with  danger 

at  every  step,  and  it  was  not  without  misgivings  that  they 

entered  upon  it. 

''Mebbe  it'll  take  us  a  week  to  git  'round,  ef  we  ain't 
gobbled  up,'-  said  Shorty,  as  he  led  the  way  in  the  direction 
upon  which  he  had  decided.  ''But  we're  in  this  scrape  'n* 
that's  the  only  way  out.  The  chances  is  't  we'll  git  nabbed 
er  shot.  We  hain't  got  nothin'  ter  fight  with  ner  nothin' 
to  eat,  but  we'll  try  'n'  pull  through  somehow.  Ye  must 
keep  yer  nerve  up.  Si,  'cause  yeVe  Hkely  ter  have  use  fer  all 
ye've  got  any  minnit." 

''What  we  goin'  ter  do  fer  grub?"  asked  Si,  for  to  him 
this  question  was  always  a  living  issue.  Both  were  be- 
coming painfully  conscious  that  they  had  had  no  break- 
fast—indeed, had  eaten  nothing  since  their  cold  "snack" 
behind  the  friendly  intrenchments  of  Fort  Klegg. 

"Men  kin  go  'thout  eatin'  a  good  while  when  they  has 
ter,"  replied  Shorty.  Then,  feeling  that  this  would  be  but 
cold  comfort  for  Si,  he  added :  ' '  But  I  reck'n  we  kin  scratch 
up  suthin  ter  bite  at,ef 'tain't  nothin'  more'n  a  ear  o'  com 
now  'n'  then.  Ef  I  ain't  mistaken  we'll  have  ter  keep 
hid  purty  much  durin'  the  daytime,  'n'  go  feelin'  our  waj 


630  EMPTINESS  OF  STOMACH. 

'round  at  night.  I'll  jest  tell  ye,  pard,  we'll  do  the  best  we 
kin.  Ef  we  gits  cotched  we  can't  help  it,  'n'  we'll  wait  fer 
the  next  chance  'n'  try  ag'in.  Ther's  nothin'  like  stickin' 
to  it." 

They  proceeded  for  a  time  with  great  caution,  keeping 
in  the  woods  and  thick  underbrush  wherever  practicable, 
and  when  in  open  country  creeping  along  walls  and  fences. 
It  was  their  intention  as  soon  as  they  began  to  see  signs 
of  the  enemy  to  conceal  themselves  for  the  remainder  of 
the  day.  It  was  not  possible  for  them  to  go  a  great  dis- 
tance in  the  necessary  direction  without  peril,  as  on  all 
the  main  roads  leading  toward  the  Confederate  "front," 
cavalrymen,  stragglers  and  forage  wagons  v^ere  contin- 
ually passing  and  repassing.  Approaching  one  of  these 
thoroughfares,  which  they  dared  not  attempt  to  cross  by 
daylight,  they  determined  to  find  a  hiding-place  and  re- 
main till  night. 

They  had  quenched  their  thirst  from  an  occasional  pool 
of  stagnant  water,  but  their  stomachs  were  in  a  state  of 
violent  rebellion  over  the  scarcity  of  provisions.  They 
had  passed  a  cornfield  or  two,  but  every  ear  had  been 
plucked.  Famine  stared  them  in  the  face,  with  no  pros- 
pect of  relief.  To  approach  a  house  in  quest  of  food  would 
be  madness,  and  an  attempt  to  forage  by  daylight  would 
be  scarcely  less  dangerous. 

** What  ar'  we  goin'  ter  do,  Shorty?"  said  Si,  who  leaned 
heavily  upon  his  comrade  for  counsel.  It  was  a  sad  plight 
in  which  he  found  himself,  and  he  mourned  as  those  with- 
out hope. 

'*It  does  look  a  leetle  streaked,"  replied  Shorty,  gravely. 
**I  can't  see  very  fur  ahead,  but  'tain't  often  a  feller  gits 
inter  sich  a  fix  't  ther'  ain't  a  way  out  ef  he  kin  only  find 
it." 

A  cloud  of  dust  in  the  distance  betokened  the  approach 
of  a  body  of  horsemen,  and  the  ears  of  the  wanderers  soon 
caught  the  sound  of  hoofs  clattering  on  the  pike.    Immedi- 


A  NEW  AND  ALARMING  DILEMMA.  631 

ate   concealment    was  necessary.    They  glanced  quickly 
around  but  no  friendly  cover  presented  itself. 

''Climb  that  thar  tree,"  said  Shorty.     ''Be  spry,  'n'  I'll 
foller  ye!" 

Two  or  three  minutes  later  Si  and  Shorty  were  high 
among  the  branches,  where  they  hoped  that  in  any  event 
the  leaves  would  hide  them  from  view.  Nearer  and  nearer 
came  the  Confederate  troopers.  The  anxious  Hoosiers 
peered  through  the  foHage,  hoping  the  cavalcade  would 
pass,  and  they  might  safely  descend.  They  grew  suddenly 
pale,  and  could  only  look  at  each  other  in  blank  dismay, 
when  the  head  of  the  galloping  column  turned  into  the 
wood  and  approached  them.  Men  yelled,  horses  neighed 
and  sabers  clanked  as  the  officer  in  command  ordered  a 
halt.  Under  and  far  around  the  tree  from  which  the  un- 
happy fugitives  looked  ^wn  upon  the  unwelcome  scene, 
the  cavalrymen  in  gray  and  butternut  picketed  their 
horses,  "baiting"  them  with  bundles  of  forage  that  each 
carried  strapped  to  the  saddle.  Then  with  rude  jest  and 
laugh,  and  snatches  of  "Dixie"  and  "Bonnie  Blue  Flag," 
the  men  disposed  themselves  upon  the  ground  for  rest  and 
refreshment.  They  were  in  high  feather,  which  seemed  to 
be  due  in  a  great  measure  to  the  fact  that  they  had  a 
bountiful  supply  of  coffee,  salt,  hardtack  and  other  articles 
that  did  not  usually  enter  into  the  Confederate  menu. 
The  festive  spirit  that  prevailed  was  explained  by  their 
conversation,  from  which  Si  and  Shorty  learned  that  they 
had  just  returned  from  a  successful  raid  in  the  rear  of  the 
Union  army,  where  they  had  captured  one  of  the  corps 
supply  trains,  well  laden  with  commissary  stores. 

With  wistful  eye  and  yearning  stomach,  Corporal  Klegg 
looked  upon  the  active  preparations  for  the  festivities. 
He  wanted  some  of  that  coffee  and  hardtack,  and  wanted 
it  ''bad:'  Some  of  the  raiders  had  cans,  bottles,  boxes 
and  other  "loot"  that  had  evidently  been  taken  from  a 
sutler.    Si  found  for  the  moment  a  little  satisfaction  in  the 


632 


thought  that  possibly  it  was  the  ''skinner"  of  the  200th 
Indiana  who  had  been  ''cleaned  out." 

But  how  long  would  the  rebels  stay  there?  This  was 
the  most  important  question  to  the  young  patriots  roost- 
ing on  the  limbs  of  that  tree.  They  might  be  off  in  an  hour 
and  they  might  go  into  bivouac  for  a  week.  Si  and  Shorty 
could  readily  foresee  that  in  a  da}"  or  two,  at  most,  starva- 
tion would  compel  them  to  surrender  themselves  if  their  vis- 
itors remained. 

"It's  hard  lines, 
pard,"  said  Shor- 
ty, in  a  scarcely 
audible  w^hisper, 
as  he  gazed  sym- 
^f^^J^  pathetically  into 
the  woe -begone 
face  of  his  com- 
rade. 

"  How  kin  we 
git  out  o'  this  ? 
It's  the  tightest 
pinch  3"et,"  re- 
plied Si,  who  had 
such  unbounded 
faith  in  Shorty's 
mental  resources 
that  it  w^as  not 
without  confi- 


TREED. 


dence  that  he  appealed  to  him  even  in  this  extremity. 

"I  don't  like  ter  own  up  't  I'm  beat,"  said  his  comrade, 
"but  I'm  'feared  the  jig  's  up,ef  them  scalawags  don't  pull 
out  o'  thar.  Seems  's  ef  fate  's  agin  us.  We  can't  do 
nothin'  only  jest  wait,  'n'  mebbe  suthin  '11  turn  up  ter  let 
us  out." 

Hour  after  hour  passed,  and  the  troopers  gave  no  sign 
of  departure.    They  built  shelters  of  rails  and  brush,  as  if 


SHORTY  GETS  AN  IDEA.  633 

for  a  protracted  stay,  and  Si  regarded  this  hopefully.  He 
knew  that  whenever  the  200th  Indiana  did  that,  marching 
orders  quickh-  followed,  and  he  thought  perhaps  it  might 
be  the  same  way  with  the  ''Johnnies."  The  soldiers  cut 
down  some  of  the  trees  to  supply  themselves  with  materials. 
Si  and  Shorty  united  in  a  fervent  prayer  that  the  axe 
would  not  be  laid  to  the  tree  in  which  tl  ey  were  quartered. 
That  prayer  was  answered. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day  the  Confederates  lay 
around,  feasting  and  sleeping  and  chatting  and  smoking 
their  cob  pipes.  The  "treed  "  refugees  could  hear  nothing 
that  indicated  a  purpose  to  march,  which  alone  would  re- 
lieve them  from  their  predicament. 

The  condition  of  Si  and  Shorty  was  fast  approaching 
the  limit  of  endurance.  Their  hunger  was  growing  furious, 
and  their  cramped  positions  became  hourly  more  painful. 
Haunted  by  the  constant  fear  of  discovery,  they  dared  not 
move  hand  or  foot.  They  spoke  but  seldom,  and  only  in 
faint  and  stifled  tones.  Escape  seemed  hopeless,  and  more 
than  once  they  were  on  the  point  of  making  their  presence 
known  and  opening  up  negotiations  for  an  honorable  sur- 
render. But  still  they  waited  and  hoped  against  hope. 
Both  were  more  than  willing  to  take  any  desperate  chance 
to  regain  their  liberty,  but  there  was  nothing  that  afforded 
the  slightest  encouragement  to  attempt  it. 

Si  tried  in  vain  to  devise  some  way  of  escape.  He  could 
not  think  of  anything  except  something  to  eat.  The  sight 
of  the  riotous  raiders  feasting  sumptuously  upon  their 
spoils,  and  the  fragrance  of  the  steaming  coffee  that  seemed 
to  be  wafted  upward  to  tantalize  his  nostrils,  were  mad- 
dening. It  was  plain  that  Si  could  not  stand  it  much 
longer.  Shorty  kept  his  wits  at  work  upon  schemes  for 
deliverance.  One  after  another  was  carefully  weighed  and 
rejected  as  impracticable.  At  length  a  thought  came  to 
him,  like  an  inspiration.  By  careful  nursing  it  soon  de- 
veloped into  a  plan  that  he  believed  was  feasible ;  it  was 


034  THE  PLAN  UNFOLDED. 

worth  trying,  anyway.  When  darkness  settled  upontlie 
wood,  lessening  the  chances  of  discovery,  and  the  ''John- 
nies "  were  noisily  engaged  in  making  shift  for  the  night,. 
Shorty  unfolded  his  project  to  his  comrade.  He  had  little 
doubt  that  Si  would  be  ready  to  do  anything  he  might 
suggest. 

*'Si,"he  whisper  d,  "do  ye  want  ter  try  m  akin' a  break  ?'^ 

*' Ye  kin  jest  bet  I  do.  Ef  ye've  got  a  way  thunk  up  't 
'11  git  us  out  o'  this  mess  I'll  give  ye  all  the  money  't  I  git 
nex'  pay-day.  I'm  beginnin'  ter  feel  's  though  I  was  on 
my  last  legs,  'n'  ef  ther  's  any  show  fer  gittin'  away  we've 
got  ter  try  it  on.    How'll  we  do  it  ?  " 

''You  give  yer  tongue  a  rest,  pard,  'n'  I'll  tell  ye.  These 
chaps  down  here,  ef  I  ain't  mistook,  's  nigh  played  out. 
Been  a-goin'  it  purty  stiddy,  day  'n'  night,  I  reck'n.  Ye 
know  they've  been  pitchin'  inter  the  grub  's  ef  they  hadn't 
had  nothin'  feat  fer  a  month,  'n'  they'll  sleep  mighty 
sound  ternight.  Bein'  's  they're  way  back  'n  the  rear  o* 
the  rebil  army  I  don't  guess  they'll  put  any  guards  on,  'n' 
ef  they  does  I  'low  they'll  sleep  'long  'th  the  rest.  They 
hain't  no  idee  o'  Yanks  a-drappin'  out  o'  the  trees.  Now 
arter  they  all  gits  tersnorin'  we'll  slide  down 'thout  makin' 
no  fuss  'n' jest  drap  f'm  them  lowest  limbs.  Mebbe  ye've 
obsarved  't  ther'  's  some  o'  the  bosses  't  ain't  tied,  but 's 
stan'in'  'round  kind  o'  car'less  like.  'Twon't  take  us  but  a 
jiffy  ter  climb  outer  a  couple  on  'em  'n'  skedaddle.  A  good 
many  o'  them  seceshers  's  full  o'  suthin  't  '11  keep  'em 
sleepin'  'n'  I  don't  b'lieve  any  on  'em  '11  git  waked  up  quick 
'nuif  ter  head  us  off.  Ef  they  shoots  let  'em  bang  away ; 
them  one-hoss  guns  't  the  critter  soljers  lugs  'round  don't 
'mount  ter  much  fer  hittin'  a  body.    Ar'  ye  in  fer  it,  Si  ?" 

This  question  was  wholly  unnecessary.  Of  course  he 
was  "in  for  "  anything  that  offered  a  chance  of  escape. 

Around  blazing  heaps  the  rough-riders  lounged  lazily, 
eating  and  washing  it  down  with  tipple,  of  which  they 
had  an  abundant  supply.    With  no  danger  near,  discipline 


IT  WORKED  WELL.  635 

was  relaxed  after  their  hard  service,  and  they  were  per- 
mitted to  do  pretty  much  as  they  pleased.  The  smoke  of 
the  fires  at  times  enveloped  Si  and  Shorty,  and  as  they  sat 
watching  and  waiting,  many  a  cough  and  sneeze  that 
would  have  been  fatal  was  determinedly  throttled  in  its 
incipient  stage. 

"Now  's  our  time,"  said  Shorty  at  length.  The  fires 
had  burned  low  and  the  weary,  surfeited  and  tipsy 
troopers  were  lying  about — some  wrapped  in  their  ragged 
blankets,  while  others  had  simply  wilted  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  warmth  and  the  potations  in  which  they 
had  indulged,  and  lay  in  grotesque  postures.  All  were  in 
a  heavy  sleep. 

"Now  be  keerful,  pard,"  said  Shorty,  as  he  led  the 
descent,  slowly  and  noiselessly.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
had  reached  the  lowest  limbs,  where  they  paused  to  get 
breath  and  to  reconnoiter  for  the  dash,  by  the  dim  light 
of  the  smoldering  embers. 

"Pick  out  yer  hoss,  'n'  go  fer  him  like  lightnin'  jest  's 
soon  's  ever  ye  hit  the  ground.  You  take  that  'ere  spotted 
one  't  looks  like  a  circus  hosSj  'n'  I'll  go  fer  the  white-face 
sorrel .    Now,  ready— ^o  ! ' ' 

Nimbly  swinging  themselves  down  by  their  hands,  they 
dropped  a  few  feet  to  the  ground.  A  Confederate  lying 
near  was  half  awakened  by  the  noise  and  rose  upon  his 
elbow.    None  other  of  the  sleepers  had  been  aroused. 

"Make  a  sound  'n'  I'll  blow  yer  brains  out  !"said  Shorty 
in  a  hoarse  whisper.  The  startled  trooper  thought  it  wise 
to  take  care  of  what  brains  he  had. 

In  an  instant  the  fugitives  were  upon  the  backs  of  the 
horses.  Shorty  dashed  away  in  the  direction  he  had 
chosen  as  the  most  favorable,  urging  his  steed  to  a  gallop 
as  he  picked  his  way  through  the  bivouac.  Si  followed,  a 
good  second  in  the  race.  The  straps  around  the  necks  of 
the  horses  sufficed  to  guide  them  in  their  course. 

The  commotion  set  the  picketed  horses  to  neighing  and 


636 


FREE  AGAIN. 


stamping;  and  the  cavalier  who  was  cowed  by  Shorty's 
threat,  thought  he  might  now  let  off  a  yell  without  dan- 
ger of  losing  his  brains.  A  great  uproar  followed,  but  the 
daring  riders  were  lost  in  the  darkness. 

Si  and  Shorty  dashed  on,  they  knew  not  whither,  think- 
ing only  of  getting  away  from  the  hostile  bivouac.  They 
dared  not  take  the  road,  which  would  doubtless  be  pick- 
eted by  the  enemy.  They  at  length  determined  to  aban- 
don the  horses  that  had  done  them  such  good  service,  as 

without  them  they 
were  less  likely  to  be 
discovered.  After 
getting  their  bear- 
ings as  well  as  they 
could  they  pressed 
forward  on  foot, 
through  field  and 
forest.  Shorty  be- 
lieved, as  nearly  as 
he  could  judge  the 
distance,  that  if  they 
could  continue  their 
course  unmolested 
till  dawn  and  con- 
ceal themselves  the 
next  day,  one  more 
night,  if  fortune  still 
smiled  upon  them, 
"would  enable  them  to  pass  around  the  enemy's  flank  and 
reach  the  Union  lines.  They  succeeded  in  finding  a  few 
ears  of  corn,  which  they  ate  raw  and  partially  allayed  the 
pangs  of  hunger.  With  every  step  Si's  spirits  rose,  as  hope 
gradually  blossomed  into  full  belief  that  the  hour  of  deliver- 
ance was  near. 

"We'd orter  make  the  riffle  this  time, "he  said  to  Shorty, 
as  they  lay  in  a  clump  of  bushes  for  a  short  rest,  '*fer  I 


ANOTHER   BREAK. 


ANOTHER  TIGHT  PINCH.  637 

can't  help  feelin'  's  though  weVe  tried  hard  'nu£f  ter  de- 
sarve  it.  ''You  'n'  me  've  arned  our  liberty,  'n'  it  '11  be 
purty  hard  ter  slip  up  arter  all  we've  been  through.  I 
don't  b'lieve  we  will,  nuther." 

All  went  well  until  just  before  day,  when,  emerging  from 
a  thicket  in  the  dim  starlight,  they  were  startled  by  the 
challenge,  **Who  comes  thar?"  and  before  they  had  time 
to  think  they  were  covered  by  half  a  dozen  muskets,  at 
such  short  range  that  it  would  have  been  madness  to 
attempt  escape.  Wandering  too  near  the  enemy's  lines, 
they  had  walked  right  into  a  Confederate  outpost.  Con- 
fused and  terror-stricken.  Si  was  speechless,  and  made  no 
eflfort  to  reply  to  the  challenge.  Had  he  done  so  his  stam- 
mering words  would  instantly  have  betrayed  them.  In 
this  new  and  alarming  crisis  he  could  only  turn  appeal- 
ingly  to  his  companion. 

*'  Who  conies  thar?^^  and  the  musket-locks  clicked  omin- 
ously as  the  hammers  -were  drawn  up. 

"  Friends  ! "  answered  Shorty,  without  a  perceptible 
tremor  in  his  voice.  His  quick  thoughts  had  suggested 
to  him  a  subterfuge  as  the  only  possible  way  out  of  the 
dilemma.  His  faith  in  its  success  was  extremely  shadowy, 
but  the  remembrance  of  previous  deliverances  encouraged 
him  to  make  the  trial. 

''Advance  'n'  give  the  countersign!" 

"Sorry  I  can't  acommerdate  ye,"  replied  Shorty,  "but 
me  'n'  my  pard  's  jest  been  out  skylarkin'  'round  'n'  we 
got  left  outside.  It'll  be  all  right  ef  ye  let  us  in ;  we  wants 
ter  git  ter  the  rijiment  'fore  roll-call.  I  reck'n  ye've  been 
thar  yerself." 

"What  ridgment  d'  you-all  b'long to?" 

"Forty-fifth  Alabamy." 

"Whatcomp'ny?" 

"Comp'ny  D!" 

"Who  's  yer  capting?" 


638  THE  JOHNNIES  TOOK  THE  TRICK. 

*' Smith!"  Shorty  thought  this  name  would  be  more 
likely  to  hit  the  mark  than  any  other. 

"Now  jest  look-a-hyar!  Ye  needn't  stan'  thar  lyin'  no 
mo'.  I  b'longter  the  Fawty-fifth  Alabam  myself 'n' this 
yer  's  Comp'ny  D.  Ye  kain't  come  that  air  trick.  Ye  hain't 
got  the  right  kind  o'  clothes  on,  nuther.  I  b'lieve  ye're 
ornery  Yanks,  'n'  dog  my  skin  ef  we  don't  settle  yer  hash 
right  now." 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  and  Shorty  waved  his 
hand  in  token  of  surrender.  ' '  The  trick  's  yourn,  pard, "  he 
said.  ''Ye've  got  all  the  trumps  'n'  ther'  ain't  no  use 
tryin'  ter  play  the  game  out." 

Once  more  Si  and  Shorty  were  in  the  toils,  and  despair- 
ingly sat  down  upon  a  log.  Si  ventured  to  speak  of  his 
famished  condition,  and  one  of  them  gave  him  a  section 
of  musty  corn  '^pone."  No  piece  of  pie  from  his  mother's 
cupboard  had  ever  been  so  welcome.  In  reply  to  the  ques- 
tions of  their  captors,  Shorty  told  the  story  of  their  recent 
adventures. 

"'Pears  like  ye're  mighty  slip'ry  chaps,"  said  one,  "but 
I  'low  ye  won't  git  away  this  time." 

As  soon  as  it  was  fully  light  they  were  marched  under  a 
formidable  escort  with  fixed  bayonets,  and  delivered  to  an 
officer.  Early  in  the  day  they  were  started  southward, 
with  a  squad  of  other  prisoners,  strongly  guarded.  At 
the  nearest  railway  station  they  boarded  a  train  and 
went  whirling  away.  Poor  Si  was  again  plunged  into  the 
lowest  depths  of  woe. 

Hours  and  hours  the  train  sped  on.  Si  would  have 
abandoned  himself  to  utter  despair  but  for  an  occasional 
word  of  encouragement  from  Shorty.  At  last  they  reached 
their  destination  and  were  turned  loose  in  a  great  "bull- 
pen," where  were  many  thousands  of  their  unfortunate 
fellows. 

What  pen  can  adequately  portray  the  scenes  of  human 
suffering  and  wretchedness  that  everywhere  met  the  eyes 


IN  THE  PRISON-PEN.  639 

of  the  new  comers,  as  they  wandered,  dazed  and  bewil- 
dered, among  the  multitude  of  starving,  half-naked  cap 
tives !  Pale,  gaunt  and  haggard,  wasted  by  disease  and 
hunger,  their  scanty  garments  in  rags,  many  without 
shelter  from  the  weather— they  gave  ghastly  evidence  of 
"man's  inhumanity  to  man."  Language  is  feeble,  and 
words  seem  to  have  lost  their  meaning,  when  attempt  is 
made  to  depict  the*  long,  bitter  agony  of  body  and  mind 
and  heart  that  often  made  death  a  welcome  relief,  in  that 
hell  upon  earth. 

As  Si  and  Shorty  roamed  through  the  prison  hundreds 
of  poor  wretches  crowded  around  them,  inquiring  with  in- 
tensest  eagerness  concerning  the  progress  of  the  war  and  the 
prospect  of  its  continuance ;  and  above  all  else  whether 
anjrthing  was  being  done  toward  an  exchange  of  prisoners. 
Exchange !— this  was  the  ignis-fatuus  that  was  ever  before 
the  eye  of  the  prisoner.  Time  and  time  again  its  fitful 
light  awakened  hope  and  expectation  in  the  sorrowing 
heart,  only  to  disappear  in  darkness  more  dense  and  com- 
fortless than  before.  Thousands  of  brave,  patient  men,  in 
whose  memories  dwell  the  horrid  specters  of  those  prisons, 
never  can  be  convinced  that  the  United  States  Government 
was  not  culpably  responsible  for  a  vast  amount  of  suffer- 
ing and  death,  by  its  failure  to  agree  with  the  Confederate 
authorities  upon  terms  for  an  exchange  of  prisoners. 

Si's  tender  heart  was  profoundly  moved.  He  saw 
emaciated  men  struggling  around  the  slender  fires  to  cook 
their  meager  rations  of  meal,  or  scraping  bare  beef  bones 
to  the  last  vestige  of  nutriment.  He  saw  them  huddling 
under  tattered  blankets  to  shield  them  from  the  fierce 
noonday  heat,  or  creeping  like  burrowing  beasts  into  their 
holes  in  the  ground.  He  saw  his  fellow-soldiers,  with  hol- 
low eyes,  weak  and  helpless  and  devoured  by  vermin,  borne 
on  stretchers  to  the  overflowing  hospitals.  He  saw  wagons 
heaped  like  butchers'  carts  in  the  shambles  with  skeleton 
corpses,  driven  to  the  vast  potter's  field,  where  the  eye 


640  PLANNING  ONCE  MORE. 

gre^w  weary  and  the  heart  sick  at  sight  of  the  endless  rows 
of  graves.  He  heard  the  crack  of  musket  and  the  whistle 
of  bullet  as  it  sped  with  unerring  aim  to  strike  down  a 
demented  wretch  who,  crazed  by  his  sufferings,  had  unwit- 
tingly crossed  the  barbarous  ''dead-line."  He  heard  the 
shrieks  and  curses  of  those  whose  gnawing  misery  had 
bereft  them  of  moral  volition  and  made  them  brutes.  He 
heard  the  groans  of' despair  from  men  who  had  lived 
this  hideous,  corroding  life  through  many  long,  wretched 
months,  and  in  whose  hearts  scarce  a  flickering  spark  of 
hope  remained.  Even  the  harrowing  sights  and  sounds 
of  the  battle  and  the  field  hospital  were  not  so  sickening 
and  abhorrent  as  these. 

*' Shorty,"  said  Si  that  night,  as  they  lay  together,  out 
under  the  pitying  stars,  "we've  got  ter  git  out  o'  here  er 
die  a-tryin'.  I  axed  one  o'  the  boys  'bout  it  'n'  he  said  a 
good  many  on  'em  tries  it  but  they  mostly  gits  shot  ei 
ketched  by  the  bloodhounds  the  rebils  turns  loose  on  'em. 
A  few  gits  away,  'n'  I  reck'n  we  kin  do  't  'f  anybody  else 
kin.  We  got  tripped  up  two  er  three  times  when  we  tried 
it  on,  but  I'm  'n  favor  o'  keepin'  at  it  'n'  ther's  no  tellin' 
but  we'll  git  thar  next  time.  Anyhow  I'd  a  mighty  sight 
ruther  be  shot  'n  ter  stay  here  'n'  starve  ter  death  er  be  et 
up  by  the  gray  backs." 

*' I  hain't  said  nothin'  to  ye,"  replied  Shorty,  "'cause  I 
didn't  see  no  chance  yit,  but  I've  kep'  on  thinkin'  'bout 
gittin'  away  every  minnit  sence  we  walked  inter  the  arms 
o*  them  Johnnies  t'other  mornin'.  Arter  what  I've  seen 
here  I'm  fiercer  'n  ever.  You  jest  keep  shady,  Si,  'n'  I'll  tip 
ye  a  wink  soon  's  I  see  the  ghost  of  a  show." 

The  next  day  the  newly  arrived  prisoners  were  visited  by 
a  Confederate  officer,  with  smooth  tongue  and  persuasive 
address,  who  asked  them  if  they  would  like  to  get  out  of 
prison.  All  were  eager  to  know  how  they  might  be  re- 
stored to  liberty,  for  after  the  scenes  they  had  witnessed 
the  dark  cloud  of  despair  was  already  hovering  overthem^ 


NOT  AT  SUCH  A  PRICE.  64?1 

"Course  we  'd  be  glad  ter  git  out,"  said  Si,  ''ef  ye'll  only 
jest  tell  us  how  ter  do  it." 

■*It  is  a  very  simple  thing,"  replied  the  officer,  "just  en- 
list in  the  Confederate  army.  Our  cause  is  certain  to  suc- 
ceed, and  we  will  do  well  by  you.  Here  is  a  roll  if  you 
would  like  to  sign  it." 

"Cap,"  said  Si,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  indignation,, 
"what  do  ye  take  us  fer?  I  kin  tell  ye  that  yeVe  bar  kin' 
up  the  wrong  tree.  Ye  kin  roll  up  that  paper  'n'  put  it  V 
yer  pocket,  fer  ther'  ain't  nobody  'n  this  crowd  that  '11 
sign  it.  Leastwise  I  won't;  I'll  die  a  hunderd  times  'fore 
I'll  do  sich  a  thing.  I  know  my  pard  won't,  nuther,  will 
ye.  Shorty?" 

"  No-sir-ee-6oZ>  .^ "  was  the  terse  response  of  his  comrade. 
The  emphasis  he  placed  upon  the  "bob  "  was  the  strongest 
possible  evidence  of  his  lo\^alty. 

There  was  perfect  unanimity  of  sentiment  in  the  party, 
and  the  officer  retired  without  having  secured  any  recruits 
to  fight  against  the  flag  of  their  country.  The  starving 
prisoners  gathered  around,  waved  their  skinny  hands,  and 
greeted  them  with  approving  cheers  and  shouts  of  "Bully 
for  the  fresh  fish !  "  This  term  was  universally  applied  to 
new  arrivals  of  prisoners. 

Ah,  no!  all  these  have  long  suffered  for  their  patriot- 
ism, and  yonder  lie  thousands  who  were  faithful  and  true 
to  the  last  feeble  gasp  of  expiring  life ;  and  Corporal  Klegg 
and  hts  comrade  are  not  the  ones  to  betray  their  country, 
upon  whose  altar  they  have  laid  their  all ! 

We  need  not  enter  into  the  details  of  their  daily  prison 
life.  The  exceeding  meagerness  and  wretched  quaHty  of 
the  food  were  a  constant  and  powerful  spur  to  Si  in  his 
eflbrts  to  devise  some  way  of  escape.  Scarcely  an  hour 
passed  that  he  did  not  propose  to  his  comrade  some  plan 
that  Shorty's  better  judgment  condemned  as  impracticable. 
The  latter  was  fully  vested  with  the  veto  power,  and  most 
«f  Si's  relief  measures  were  promptly  disposed  of  in  this  waj. 


642 


A  CHANCE  OFFERED, 


Shorty  counseled  patience,  but  Si  grew  restive  at  the 
delay.  More  than  once  Shorty  directed  his  attention  to 
the  cordon  of  watchful  sentinels,  clad  in  gray,  with  loaded 
muskets,  around  the  stockade ;  the  body  of  troops  with- 
out, quick  to  respond  to  the  slightest  alarm;  and  the 
artillery,  with  shotted  guns,  planted  upon  the  adjacent 
hills.  The  frequent  attempts  to  escape,  by  tunnels  and 
otherwise,  had  served  to  heighten  the  vigilance  of  the 
guards. 

**We  don't  want  ter  make  a  break,"  said  Shorty,  '"less 

we've  got  a  livin* 
chance.  Ef  we  try  it 
'n'  git  cotched,  that'll 
be  the  end  on  't.  I 
'low  they'll  chuck  us 
in  where  we'll  have  ter 
stay  fer  a  w^hile." 

Two  or  three  weeks 
later,  when  a  detail 
v^as  made  to  go  with 
wagons  for  wood, 
Shorty  volunteered  the 
services  of  himself  and 
his  comrade.  They 
were  yet  vigorous,  and 
better  able  to  do  the  work  than  others.  Si  gladly  con- 
sented, casting  a  quick,  inquiring  glance  at  Shorty, 
which  the  latter  readily  interpreted.  '^  Look  sharp.  Si," 
he  said,  *"n'  watch  me  cluss,  but  be  keerful  'bout  let  tin' 
on!" 

The  detail,  accompanied  by  a  detachment  of  rebel  soldiers, 
went  to  the  forest,  half  a  mile  from  the  stockade.  The 
prisoners  were  so  docile  and  industrious  that  their  attend- 
ants were  in  a  measure  thrown  off  their  guard  and  loitered 
carelessly  about.  Shorty  and  Si  started  for  a  stick  that 
lay  a  few  steps  beyond  the  guards. 


IN  THE  PRISON-PEN. 


AND  PROMPTLY  IMPROVED.  643 

*'Do  ye  want  ter  try  it,  Si?"  asked  Shorty  in  a  whisper. 
"Ye  know  these  rebil  guns  has  all  got  bullets  in  'em !  " 

"  Go  it !  "  was  the  reply. 

As  they  stooped  to  lift  the  log,  Shorty  glanced  quickly 
at  the  guards,  and  saw  that  none  were  watching  with 
especial  attention. 

**Now,  git — fer  yer  life !  "  he  said  in  a  \oy^  tone. 

*'Both  bounded  away,  and  so  quick  were  their  move- 
ments, and  so  noiseless  their  steps  Upon  the  yielding  earth, 
that  they  were  a  dozen  paces  away  among  the  thick  trees 
before  their  flight  was  discovered. 

*'Halt,  there,  you  Yanks!  "  yelled  one  of  the  guards,  as 
he  drew  up  his  musket  and  fired  wildly,  the  ball  whistling 
among  the  tree-tops.  Crack— crack— and  a  dozen  illy- 
directed  missiles  were  sent  after  the  fugitives,  who  were 
now  rods  away  and  going  six  feet  at  a  step.  The  bullets 
pattered  against  the  trees,  two  or  three  of  them  zipping 
unpleasantly  near,  but  neither  of  the  swiftly  flying  Hoosiers 
w^as  touched. 

''Ef  they  stop  ter  load  we  kin  git  out  o'  range,"  said 
Shorty,  to  encourage  his  panting  comrade,  *"n'  ef  they 
tries  ter  chase  us  'th  the'r  traps  on  we  kin  outrun  'em. 
Leg  it.  Si ;  put  in  yer  best  licks  !  " 

Si  needed  no  urging.  He  leaped  over  the  ground  like  a 
deer,  with  a  burst  of  speed  that  surprised  himself  and  fairly 
challenged  the  longer  and  usually  more  active  legs  of 
Shorty. 

A  few  of  the  guards  threw  down  their  muskets  and 
started  in  pursuit.  Those  who  remained  had  their  hands 
full  of  business  immediately.  Quick  to  seize  an  oppor- 
tunity, as  soon  as  the  thoughtless  guards  had  discharged 
their  muskets,  one  of  the  prisoners  shouted  ''Come  on, 
boys,  here's  our  chance!"  and  away  they  all  went,  scat- 
tering in  every  direction.  This  was  highly  favorable  for 
Si  and  Shorty,  who  by  this  time  were  out  of  sight  in 
the  woods.     The  demoralized  guards — terror-stricken  at 


644 


ELUDING  THEIR  PURSUERS. 


thought  of  the  punishment  they  would  incur  for  having; 
permitted  a  '^delivery" — charged  around  with  frantic  yells, 
in  the  vain  effort  to  stop  the  runaways.  Meanwhile  the 
sound  of  the  firing  had  alarmed  the  forces  at  the  prison 
and  a  few  minutes  later  a  squadron  of  cavalry  w^as  on  the 
gallop  to  join  in  the  chase. 

Si  and  Shorty  had  no  difficulty  in  outstripping  their  pur- 
suers, who  were  incumbered  by  their  accouterments,  and 

for  the  moment 
they  were  free. 
They  knew  they 
would  be  hunt- 
ed by  men  and 
horses  and  fierce 
dogs,  and  they 
sped  on,  that 
they  might  get 
as  much  the 
start  as  possi- 
ble. If  they  could 
baffle  their  ene- 
mies until  night 
there  would  be 
hope. 

An  hour — two 
hours  —  passed, 
and  they  were 
miles  from  the 
loathsome  pris- 
on. Carefully  avoiding  the  highways  and  habitations 
of  man,  they  threaded  their  way  through  forest  and 
copse.  At  length  they  thought  they  heard  the  distant 
baying  of  the  hounds  upon  their  track.  Fortunately 
one  of  those  great  swamps  so  often  met  with  in  the 
south  was  near.  With  stick  in  hand  to  feel  their  way 
they  plunged  in  and  made  for  its  darkest  recesses,  the 


IN   THE   SWAMP. 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  645 

foul,  slimy  water  at  times  reaching  to  their  waists.  For 
another  hour  they  floundered  on  and  then,  as  they  seemed 
to  be  nearing  the  farther  side  of  the  morass,  Shorty  advised 
concealment  till  night.  They  crept  into  a  dense  clump  of 
bushes  and  rank  swamp  grass.  Standing  knee  deep  in 
water,  they  waited  through  the  closing  hours  of  the  day 
for  the  darkness. 

Little  breath  had  been  wasted  in  talk  during  their  flight. 
Now  they  were  free  to  canvass  the  situation  and  decide 
upon  their  course.  There  was  not  much  argument  or  dif- 
ference of  opinion,  for  Shorty's  judgment  had  so  rarely 
proved  at  fault  that  it  was  never  called  in  question  by  his 
confiding  comrade.  Shorty  had  never  studied  astronomy 
from  the  books,  but  he  thought  he  knew  enough  about  the 
moon  and  the  stars  to  be  able  to  shape  the  long  and  periL 
ous  journey  which  they  had  so  auspiciously  begun.  Their 
hearts  sank  as  they  thought  of  the  many  miles  that  they 
must  traverse  by  night.  But  they  cheered  each  other  and 
stoutly  nerved  themselves  for  the  trial. 

It  will  suffice  for  this  veracious  chronicle  to  say  that  Si 
and  Shorty  were  among  the  few  who  succeeded  in  running 
the  fearful  gauntlet.  They  traveled  by  night,  resting  during 
the  daytime  in  swamps  and  brakes  and  thickets,  sleeping 
and  watching  each  in  turn.  They  subsisted  upon  corn, 
-which  was  then  in  kernel,  raw  vegetables  which  they 
found  here  and  there,  and  an  occasional  meal  that  tasted 
** sweeter  than  honey  and  the  honeycomb,"  in  the  humble 
cabin  of  a  friendly  negro.  Thus  they  pressed  forward,  for 
many  days  and  nights.  The  worthless  shoes  given  them 
in  exchange  the  day  of  their  first  capture  gave  out  entirely. 
With  feet  bare  and  bleeding,  their  clothes  torn  by  thorns  and 
brambles,  chilled  by  the  nightly  dews,  beaten  by  sun  and 
storm,  and  often  enduring  the  pangs  of  hunger,  they  pushed 
on  toward  the  goal.  When  at  last  they  entered  the  lines  of 
the  Union  army,  Si's  long  pent-up  feelings  found  relief  in  a 
succession  of  wild  yells  that  came  near  stampeding  a  whole 


646 


SAFE  AT  LAST. 


brigade.  Such  an  overwhelming  happiness  had  not  filled 
his  heart  since  the  day  he  first  put  on  a  uniform  as  a  recruit 
of  Company  Q. 

The  two  vagabonds  were  received  with  a  salvo  of  cheers 
by  their  comrades  of  the  200th  Indiana.  They  had  long 
since  been  given  up  for  dead.  The  men  crowded  around 
them  to  hear  the  story  of  their  adventures. 

'^'11  tell  ye  air  bout  it 
arter  a  while,"  said  Si, 
"but  ye'll  have  ter  jest 
wait  t'll  I  git  filled  up 
with  hardtack  'n'  sow- 
belly. I'm  holler  clear 
down  ter  my  toes !  *' 

All  the  haversacks  in 
the  company  were  at 
once  placed  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  returned 
fugitives,  and  nothing 
was  thought  of  until 
their  hunger  had  been 
satisfied. 


RETURN  OF  THE  VAGABONDS. 


Then  the  orderh^  took  them  to  the  quartermaster,  who 
fitted  them  out  from  top  to  toe  with  new  clothes.  In  the 
important  matter  of  a  shirty  Si  was  careful  to  dra\v  one 
that  was  about  four  sizes  too  large  for  him.  He  knew  it 
v^ould  shrink  to  the  right  proportions  the  first  time  he 
washed  it.  The  first  army  shirt  Si  had,  shortened  up  so 
much  after  a  washing  that  it  looked  more  like  a  vest  tijan 
SL  shirt. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Si  and  Shorty  Take  Sweet  Revenge  Upon  the  Enemy— Corporal 
Klegg  Meets  with  a  Sore  Bereavement. 

ONE  day  the  corps  to  which  the  200th  Indiana  be- 
longed, flanked  by  a  heavy  force  of  cavalry,  was  dis- 
patched on  arapid  detour  to  the  enemy's  rear,  to  strike  the 
railroad  which  was  his  chief  source  of  supply.  To  favor  the 
movement  the  main  body  of  the  Union  army  closely 
pressed  the  Confederate  lines  at  all  points,  making  it  im- 
possible for  the  latter  to  detach  anj^  considerable  body  to 
operate  against  the  raiders. 

Imposing  and  noisy  ''demonstrations,"  as  they  were 
called,  to  hold  the  attention  of  the  enemy  and  mask  the 
real  movement  elsewhere,  were  prominent  in  the  strategy 
of  this  campaign,  and  of  frequent  occurrence  on  both  sides. 
Sometimes  only  a  brigade  or  division,  at  other  times  a 
corps  or  half  the  army,  engaged  in  the  spasmodic  effort  to 
deceive  "the  other  fellows."  The  troops  charged  with 
this  duty  were  bountifully  supplied  with  ammunition, 
often  a  hundred  rounds  or  more  per  man,  and  marched 
to  the  line  of  fortified  outposts.  Here,  for  hours  at  a 
time,  they  did  nothing  but  load  their  muskets  and  blaze 
away  into  the  woods  toward  the  enemj^— and  yell.  Often 
a  battery  or  two  of  artillery  contributed  to  the  frightful 
din,  sending  shot  and  shell  plunging  through  the  trees. 
It  was  great  sport  for  the  boys,  as  they,  in  imagination, 
mowed  down    the  rebels  by  hundreds,   without    danger 

64T 


648  MAKING  A    "demonstration." 

to  themselves.  After  one  of  these  ebullitions  the  trees  in 
front,  which  were  the  only  sufferers,  were  a  sight  to  be- 
hold. Not  one  of  them  but  was  slivered  and  scarred  for  a 
distance  of  fifty  feet  from  the  ground.  Twenty  or  thirty 
men  w^ould  select  a  tree  perhaps  a  foot  in  diameter  as  a 
particular  target  and  actually  cut  it  down  with  their  bul- 
lets. At  these  times  the  men  worked  themselves  up  almost 
to  the  excitement  of  actual  battle.  At  night  they  were 
hoarse  from  yelling,  and  as  much  exhausted  as  if  they  had 
been  fighting  all  day.  These  theatrical  performances  were 
intended  to  distract  the  enemy  and,  if  possible,  induce  him 
to  weaken  the  point  really  to  be  assailed,  by  withdrawing 
from  it  troops  to  reinforce  the  line  where  the  stunning 
hullaballoo  indicated  a  probable  assault.  If  he  did  this  the 
*' demonstration"  was  considered  a  success,  and  the  tons 
of  lead  and  iron  so  promiscuously  scattered  about  were 
not  wasted. 

While  one  of  these  terrifying  fusillades  was  in  progress  the 
corps  alluded  to,  by  a  rapid  march,  brushing  away  the 
enem\^'s  cavalry  which  hovered  around,  reached  the  rail- 
road that  was  its  objective  point.  The  men  had  been 
crowd*ed  to  the  utmost  and  were  much  wearied,  but  there 
was  not  a  moment  for  rest.  The  success  of  the  expedition 
and  the  safety  of  the  command  depended  upon  the  greatest 
celerity  of  movement.  The  cavalry  was  sent  out  in  all  di- 
rections to  watch  the  enemy.  Half  the  infantry  w^as  ad- 
vantageoush^  posted,  throwing  up  hasty  intrenchments, 
to  cover  the  other  half,  which  entered  at  once  and  with 
sest  upon  the  work  of  destruction. 

The  cutting  of  railroads  was,  from  the  outbreak  of  the 
war,  encouraged  on  both  sides,  and  by  this  time  had  de- 
veloped into  an  important  military  industry.  Various 
implements  and  appliances,  to  facilitate  the  havoc  and 
make  it  as  effectual  as  possible,  w^ere  part  of  the  equipment 
of*  every  army. 

*'Now  we're  goin'  ter  have  some  fun,  Shorty !" exclaimed 


THEY  STRUCK  THE  RAILROAD. 


649 


Si.,  as  the  200th  Indiana  stacked  arms  beside  the  track 
and  the  specific  duty  to  be  performed  became  apparent  to 
all.  ''I  hain't  never  fergot  i:he  time  the  Johnnies  cut  our 
cracker-line,  'n'  I've  alius  been  hopin'  we'd  git  a  chance  ter 
pa}^  'em  back.  'Sides  that  you  'n'  me  's  got  a  pertickler 
spite  agin  this  'ere  railroad,  'cause  it's  the  one  't  tuk  us 
down  ter  that  measly  place  't  we  had  sich  a  time  gittin* 
.Nvay  from.  I've  got  a  fust-rate  stummick  fer  pitchin' 
inter  this  job!" 
Five  thousand  men  were  thickly  distributed  on  both 


DESTROYING  A  RAILROAD. 

sides  of  the  road  for  a  mile.  They  did  not  lay  off  their 
accouterments,  and  their  muskets  were  within  grasp, 
should  there  be  occasion  to  stop  work  and  go  to  fighting. 
Axes,  sledge-hammers, levers  and  '^ claws"  were  plentifully 
supplied.  A  few  spikes  w^ere  quickly  drav^n  at  intervals 
of  two  or  three  hundred  yards.  Then  the  men  laid  hold 
of  the  rails  on  one  side,  gave  a  mighty  yell,  and  in  an  in- 
stant the  track  was  turned  over  into  the  ditch.  Vigorous 
blows  with  the  sledges  rapidly  detached  the  ties  from  the 
rails.    Meanwhile  others  had  started  a  hundred  fires  all 


650  *'JEFF  DAVIS'S  NECKTIES." 

along  the  line.  Upon  these  the  ties  were  loosely  piled^ 
"with  quantities  of  fence  rails  and  dry  limbs  and  brush  ta 
feed  the  flames.  The  long,  clumsy  iron  rails  were  picked 
up,  with  a  dozen  men  to  each,  as  if  they  were  feathers, 
and  laid  across  the  blazing  heaps.  In  half  an  hour  they 
were  at  a  red  heat,  for  six  or  eight  teet  in  the  middle. 
Then  came  the  final  process  by  which  the  devastation  was 
made  complete.  With  grappling-irons,  made  for  the  pur- 
pose, the  rails  were  twisted  two  or  three  times  around,  as 
Si  had  often  seen  his  mother  twist  doughnuts.  The  still 
glowing  rails  were  then  bent  entirely  around  the  trunks  of 
standing  trees,  where  they  were  left  to  cool. 

It  was  a  scene  of  wild  and  furious  tumult,  never  to  be 
forgot ten^t he  3-elling,  scrambling,  sweating  men,  their 
faces  begrimed  with  dust  and  smoke,  lifting,  prying, 
pounding  and  chopping,  the  shouts  of  the  officers  directing, 
the  operations  and  urging  up  the  laggards,  and  the  blaz- 
ing, crackling  fires,  stretching  far  along  the  track  on  either 
side.  A  few  hours  sufficed  to  utterly  destroy  miles  of  the 
j-oad— the  ties  in  ashes  and  the  twisted,  shapeless  rails 
transformed  into  rings  encircling  the  trees. 

When  an  undertaking  of  this  kind  was  thoroughly  car- 
ried out  it  caused,  in  many  cases,  serious  embarrassment 
to  the  Confederate  army.  The  vast  mineral  resources  of 
the  south  were  then  almost  entirely  undeveloped.  Before 
the  war  all  iron  for  railroads  in  that  section  was  ob- 
tained from  the  north  or  imported  from  Europe.  The 
south  had  no  means  to  make  good  the  wear  of  constant 
use  and  the  ravage  of  war.  If  rails  were  merely  heated 
and  bent  it  was  possible  to  straighten  them  so  that  they 
might  be  relaid,  but  when  they  were  fantastically  twisted 
by  the  grappling-irons  of  well  equipped  raiders,  they  were 
made  valueless  except  as  they  might  command  the  market 
price  for  ''old  iron."  The  frequent  raids  upon  the  lines  of 
supply  of  the  Union  army,  though  annoying,  were  far  less 
disastrous  than  was  the  destruction  of  railroads  to  the 


THE  MILITARY  RAILROADS.  651 

enemy.  The  government  kept  at  all  desirable  points  abun- 
dant supplies  of  rails,  ties,  spikes,  etc.,  and  the  engineer 
corps  repaired  the  breaks  with  a  rapidit}^  that  was  amaz- 
ing. Not  infrequently  this  was  done  under  fire,  the 
men  toiling  with  their  muskets  slung  over  their  backs, 
part  of  them  keeping  back  the  enem^^  while  the  others 
pushed  forward  the  work.  There  seemed  to  be  nothing 
impossible  to  the  intelligent  soldiers  of  the  Union  army. 

Railroads  were  invaluable  for  the  speedy  transportation 
of  troops  and  supplies.  At  times,  when  extraordinary 
facilities  were  needed — as  when  two  corps  were  sent 
from  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  to  reinforce  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland  at  Chattanooga — the  government  took  pos- 
session of  the  necessary  roads  with  all  their  rolling-stock, 
and  as  many  engines  and  cars  of  other  roads  as  could  be 
used  ;  and  for  the  time  all  private  business  had  to  give  way. 
The  southern  roads,  in  the  territory  occupied  by  the  Union 
army,  were  in  many  cases  laid  with  new  rails,  the  gauge 
being  changed  when  necessar\^,  and  stocked  with  engines 
and  cars  owned  by  the  government.  These  were  all  des- 
ignated ''U.  S.  M.  R.  Rds."— United  States  Military  Rail- 
roads. During  the  last  3^ear  of  the  war  the  military  rail- 
way service  reached  the  height  of  efficiency.  Plenty  of 
engineers,  conductors  and  trainmen  were  found,  who  took 
their  lives  in  their  hands  as  truly  as  did  the  soldiers  who 
marched  to  battle. 

While  the  200th  Indiana  and  the  other  wreckers  were 
engaged  in  their  work,  they  were  more  than  once  called 
into  line  with  loaded  muskets  by  sharp  firing  on  the 
outposts,  where  there  was  constant  skirmishing  with  the 
-enemy's  cavalry.  At  length  a  horseman  came  galloping 
in  with  the  intelligence  that  a  large  body  of  Confederate 
infantry  was  approaching  with  rapid  strides.  The  bugles 
sounded  the  ''fall  in"  and  away  went  the  Union  force, 
leaving  the  road  for  miles  a  smoking  ruin.  Through  the 
night,  stumbling  along  in  the  darkness,  the  men  pushed 


652  A  WHITE   FLAG. 

on,  liarassed  in  front,  flank  and  rear  by  the  rebel  riders. 
Morning  found  the  corps  safely  back  in  its  place  behind 
the  great  line  of  intrenchments. 

Si  and  Shorty  ate  their  hardtack  and  bacon  that  day 
with  keen  enjoyment.  Nothing  since  the  regiment  left 
Indiana  had  given  them  so  much  satisfaction  as  the  oppor- 
tunity to  wreak  their  vengeance  upon  that  railroad. 

During  the  next  few  days  the  zipping  bullets  that  came 
in  a  constant  shower  from  the  rebel  vside  seemed  to  be  more 
than  usually  spiteful.  They  hissed  angrily  through  the  air, 
and  pelted  the  *' head-log"  that  surmounted  every  field- 
work.  This  log— usually  ten  or  twelve  inches  in  diameter 
— was  laid  along  the  top  of  the  work,  resting  upon  blocks, 
leaving  a  crevice  two  or  three  inches  wide  through  which 
the  gun  was  thrust  for  firing,  the  log  affording  good  pro- 
tection to  the  heads  of  the  soldiers.  Of  course  some  bul- 
lets found  their  way  through  the  crevice  and  did  fatal  ex- 
ecution, but  many  lives  were  saved  by  the  ''head-log." 

After  one  of  the  fierce  engagements  that  were  of  such 
frequent  occurrence  during  those  bloody  days.  Si  Klegg 
and  Shorty  were  on  the  picket  line.  A  small  body  of  Con- 
federates appeared  in  the  edge  of  the  timber  skirting  a 
field,  waving  a  white  cloth. 

"Be  they  goin'  ter  s'render?  "  asked  Si.  ''I  sh'd  think 
they'd  be  gittin*  tired  'n'  wantin'  ter  quit !  " 

**I  reck'n  not,"  replied  Shorty.  "Looks  ter  me  like  a  flag 
o* truce." 

This  it  proved  to  be.  The  proper  officer  being  summoned 
to  receive  the  message,  a  request  from  the  Confederate 
commander  was  delivered  for  a  cessation  of  hostilities  for 
two  hours,  to  bury  the  dead.  The  bodies  lay  between  the 
lines,  and  among  them  were  some  of  the  desperately 
wounded,  inaccessible  from  either  side  so  long  as  the  firing 
was  continued. 

The  truce  was  agreed  to,  and  the  necessary  orders  were 
^t  once  sent  along  the  lines.    Gladly  the  combatants  laid 


OUR  BUGLES  SANG  TRUCE. 


653 


down  their  arms  and  threw  off  their  accouterments.  The 
deadly  crack  of  musket  and  whiz  of  bullet  ceased  and  there 
came  a  brief  season  of  quiet  that  was  like  a  glimpse  of 
heaven  to  the  soldiers,  weary  of  war.  Large  burial  parties 
were  detailed  from  each  army,  for  the  valor  of  both  was 
attested  by  the  corpses  that  lay  upon  that  field,  fast  black- 
ening in  the  sun.  Some  with  picks  and  shovels  dug  long 
trenches,  in  which  w^ere  laid,  side  b\^  side,  the  comrades 
who  never  again  would  fall  in  for  roll-call  or  battle  charge. 
Others  tenderly  lifted  the  wounded  upon  stretchers  and 
bore  them  away.  As  far  as  possible  the  dead  were  identified 
and  the  resting  place  of 
each  was  marked  by  a 
roughly -carved  head- 
board. No  prayers 
were  said  ;  there  was 
no  hearse  with  nod- 
ding plumes,  no  toll- 
ing of  funeral  bells; 
no  loved  ones  to  weep 
over  the  fallen  brave. 
One  by  one,  with  per- 
haps not  so  much  as  a 
blanket  for  a  winding- 
sheet,  they  v^ere  cov- 
ered with  the  earth  under  a  truce. 
which,  a  few  hours  before,  they  had  trodden  in  the  awful 
struggle. 

Officers  and  men  not  engaged  in  the  duty  of  interment, 
leaving  behind  them  the  implements  of  death,  mingled  freely 
bet  ween  the  lines,  none,  of  course,  passing  the  intrenchments 
of  the  other  side.  Soldiers  in  blue  and  in  gray  chatted  as 
if  they  had  been  lifelong  friends  instead  of  deadly  enemies, 
whose  only  thought  and  act,  day  after  day,  was  to  take 
life.  The  fast-filling  graves  around  them  did  not  repress 
the  laugh  and  jest  that  to  one  less  calloused  to  such  scenes 


654  **  SUCH  IS  war!" 

would  appear  sacrilege.  Personally  these  men  were  not 
foes,  and  they  were  alike  brave  in  defense  of  what  they 
believed  to  be  the  right.  Save  an  occasional  good-natured 
boast  or  rally  in  the  way  of  badinage,  little  was  said 
about  the  principles  involved  in  the  war  or  the  conduct  of 
the  desperate  campaign  in  which  they  were  engaged. 
They  bartered  coffee  and  salt  for  tobacco,  and  cordially 
united  in  expressing  the'  hope  that  the  war  would  soon 
end.  Each  was  equally  persistent  in  declaring  that  there 
was  but  one  way  in  which  it  must  and  should  end,  and 
that  was  by  the  complete  success  of  his  side. 

Officers  lounged  about  in  little  groups,  talking  of  more 
weighty  matters,  and  passing  the  flask  from  one  to 
another  in  the  most  sociable  manner. 

Two  hours— the  last  body  has  been  buried  and  the 
mangled  sufferers  have  been  carried  within  the  respective 
lines.  A  bugle  blast  gives  notice  '*to  whom  it  may  con- 
cern"— and  it  concerns  them  all— that  the  truce  is  ended. 
The  soldiers  of  the  opposing  armies  shake  hands,  speak 
kind  words  of  parting,  and  soon  disappear  behind  the 
intrenchments.  No  one  has  feared  to  go  unarmed  among 
his  enemies,  for  lost  to  honor  indeed  is  that  soldier  who 
would  violate  the  faith  of  a  truce.  Few  graver  offenses 
are  known  to  military  law. 

Now  the  dove  of  peace,  whose  white  wings  for  a  little 
time  have  fluttered  above  the  hostile  legions,  flies  sadly 
away,  as  the  soldiers  buckle  on  again  their  warlike  trap- 
pings and  seize  their  muskets.  There  is  a  blazing  line  he^ 
neath  the  head-logs  and  the  killing  and  maiming  goes  on 
as  before.  Perhaps  at  the  first  shot  one  may  send  a  his- 
sing bullet  through  the  brain  of  him  whose  hand  but  a 
moment  ago  he  took  in  friendly  parting.    Such  is  war ! 

Night  falls,  and  once  more  the  din  is  hushed.  A  band  of 
the  Union  army — for  the  music  has  not  all  been  sent  to  the 
rear — goes  to  the  trenches  and  plays  ''The  Star  Spangled 
Banner."    The  soldiers  wave  their  caps  and  fill  the  air 


MUSIC  IN  THE  TRENCHES.  655 

with  a  tremendous  chorus  of  shouts  and  cheers.  All  is 
quiet  "over  the  way"  until  the  echoes  have  ceased,  and 
then  a  Confederate  band  strikes  up  the  lively  cadences  of 
"Dixie,"  and  it  is  t/zeirturnto  yell.  The  "Johnnies"  make 
the  most  of  the  opportunity,  striving  to  dwarf  the  Union 
cheers  by  the  volume  of  sound  that  comes  from  their  lusty 
lungs.  All  is  still  again,  and  the  stirring  strains  of  the 
''Red,  White  and  Blue"  are  heard.  This  arouses  afresh 
the  patriotic  ardor  of  the  Union  soldiers  and  they  shout 
louder  and  longer  than  before.  Then  upon  the  other  side 
is  heard  the  "Bonnie  Blue  Flag,"  and  the  men  in  gray, 
who  have  sung  it  a  thousand  times  in  camp  and  on  the 
inarch,  almost  split  their  throats  with  responsive  yells. 
The  next  number  in  the  impromptu  program  is  "John 
Brown's  Body,"  which  the  band  pla^^s  defiantly.  When 
it  is  finished  thousands  of  blue-coated  soldiers  join  in  sing- 
ing, with  all  the  power  they  can  command : 

"We'll  hang  Jeff  Davis  on  a  sour-apple  tree." 

This  has  an  inflammatory  effect,  and  the  crack  of  mus- 
l?:ets  and  sputtering  volley  of  bullets  clearly  show  the  dis- 
favor "with  which  half  the  audience  receives  this  selection. 
The  balls  go  high,  as  if  only  intended  to  evince  disapproval. 
The  singers  seize  their  guns  and  send  back  a  hailstorm  of 
lead  in  reply. 

"Say,  Johnny,"  shouts  one  at  the  top  of  his  voice— for 
the  strongly  fortified  lines  are  so  near  that  his  words  can 
reach— "That  makes  us  squar'.  Now  let  up  on  shootin' 
iind  don't  spile  the  concert !  " 

"All  right,  Yank,"  was  the  reply,  "but  yer  don't  want 
ter  be  givin'  us  no  more  o'  that  dog-goned  slush.  We 
didn't 'low  to  hit  ye,  but  ef  ye  sing  that  ag'in  we'll  aim 
low  next  time!" 

The  Confederate  band  responds  with  "  My  Maryland,'' 
and  the  soldiers  sing : 

"  The  despot's  heel  is  on  thy  shore, 
Maryland,  my  Maryland." 


656  ONCE  MORE  TO  THE  BREACH. 

After  the  rebels  have  yelled  sufficiently  over  this  popular 
southern  song,  peace  and  good  feeling  are  restored  by 
the  tender  chords  of  "Annie  Laurie"  from  the  band  in  the 
Union  trenches.  The  other  meets  it,  in  the  same  spirit,  with 
* '  Auld  Lang  Syne, ' '  and  the  men  of  both  armies  cheer.  Then 
follow,  the  bands  playing  alternately,  ''Bowld  Soger  Boy,'^ 
''Comin'  thro'  the  Rye,"  ''When  Johnny  Comes  March- 
ing Home,"  ''Old  Kentucky  Home,"  "Way  Down  upon  the 
SuwaneeRiber"  and  "Nellie  Gray."  "Music  hath  charms'** 
to  soften  even  the  asperities  of  "grim  visaged  war,"  and 
thousands  of  hearts  are  moved  as  both  bands  unite  in 
"Home,  Sweet  Home."  But  for  the  darkness  we  might  see 
many  a  swarthy  and  battle-scarred  veteran  dash  away  a 
tear  with  the  rough  sleeve  of  his  blouse.  With  tender, 
passionate  thoughts  of  far-off  loved  ones  the  soldiers 
stretch  themselves  upon  the  ground,  their  muskets  beside 
them,  save  those  w^ho  are  to  keep  vigil  at  the  works  and 
upon  the  lonely  outposts. 

There  came  a  day  when  the  soldiers  of  the  200th  Indi- 
ana looked  for  the  last  time  into  the  blazing  muzzles  of  the 
rebel  guns.  The  long  campaign — and  the  war  in  that  de- 
partment of  the  army— closed  with  a  defeat  of  the  enemy, 
so  crushing  and  overwhelming  that  recovery  from  the 
blow  was  impossible. 

When  the  dispositions  were  made  for  the  last  grand 
assault  upon  the  Confederate  lines,  the  duty  of  carrying  a 
strong  fort  at  an  important  point  was  assigned  to  the 
brigade  to  which  the  200th  Indiana  belonged.  Whilewait- 
ing  for  the  final  word  of  command  the  troops  lay  down  in 
line,  covered  by  their  intrenchments.  The  cannon  that 
had  long  been  bellowing  through  the  embrasures  of  the  fort 
were  silent,  and  those  who  manned  them  seemed  to  be  gath- 
ering strength  to  meet  the  expected  shock.  No  sound  of 
musket  was  heard,  except  an  occasional  exchange  of  shots 
on  the  picket-line.  It  was  the  calm  before  the  bursting  of 
the  storm. 


657 

Only  a  fragment  of  the  200th  remained.  Of  the  thou- 
sand men  with  which  it  took  the  field,  scarcely  a  hundred 
were  now  in  its  ranks.  Of  these  many  bore  the  honorable 
scars  of  battle.  The  graves  of  its  dead  thickly  dotted  the 
fiery  and  devious  path  it  had  so  painfully  traveled.  Hun- 
dreds, disabled  by  wounds  and  wasting  disease,  no  longer 
answered  to  their  names  at  roll-call.  The  regiment  had 
done  its  duty  faithfully  and  well.  Often  tried  in  war's 
fiercest  crucible,  its  name  had  never  been  tarnished  by  dis- 
honor. Its  record  was  without  spot,  and  its  shrunken 
line  was  a  silent  yet  most  eloquent  testimonial  to  its 
valor. 

The  dauntless  heroes  looked  gravely  into  one  another's 
faces  as  they  lay  there,  ready  as  ever  to  leap  into  the  vor- 
tex of  the  conflict,  with  ears  strained  to  catch  the  order  to 
advance.  There  was  an  undefined  feeling  that  the  end  was 
near  at  hand.  To  pass  safely  through  the  years  of  blood 
and  fall  at  the  last,  in  the  hour  of  victory,  seemed  a  cruel 
fate.  Yet  to  many  of  those  soon  to  face  the  belching  guns 
of  the  fort  but  a  few  minutes  of  life  remained.  Who  would 
go  down  before  the  crimson  sickle  that  was  again  to  be 
thrust  into  the  thinned  ranks?  Who  would  once  more 
come  out  unscathed,  and  still  live  to  maintain  the  honor 
of  that  faded  and  riven  flag  ? 

''Shorty,"  said  Si,  "I  can't  help  feelin'  't  I'll  be  mighty 
glad  when  the  war  's  over.  Ye  know  well  'nuff  I 
don't  mean  't  I  want  ter  quit  till  'tis  over;  but  'pears  ter 
me  's  though  everybody,  north  'n'  south,  them  't  's  sol- 
jerin'  'n'  them  't  's  to  hum,  must  be  gittin'  'bout  's  much 
on  it  's  they  kin  stand.  I  know  't  what  I've  had  '11  last 
me  'f  I  sh'd  live  ter  be  's  old  's  Methuzelum." 

''Mebbe  ye  hain't  fergot,"  replied  Shorty,  ''what  I  used 
ter  say  to  ye  'long  at  fust,  when  ye  was  so  fierce  ter  git 
inter  a  fight.  Ye  know  I  told  ye  't  ye'd  git  filled  up  'fore 
ye  got  through.  War  's  mighty  satisfyin'— a  leetle  on  't 
goes  a  good  ways— 'n'  't  don't  take  long  ter  kinder  use  up 


658  THE  RUSH  FOR  THE  FORT. 

a  feller's  hankerin'  arter  it.     I  reck'n  ye'll  think  more  o* 
yer  home,  when  ye  git  thar,  'n  ye  ever  did  afore." 

**  YouWe  got  ter  go  home  'long  'th  me  when  we  gits  dis- 
charged. It  sort  o'  runs  'n  my  head  't  the  rebils  is  losin' 
theV  grip  'n'  they  '11  let  go  one  o'  these  days.  I  want  ye 
ter  come  ter  the  old  farm  'n'  stay  jest 's  long  's  ever  ye're  a 
mind  ter.  Ye  know  I'm  yer  s'perior  ossifer  'n'  when. I  tells 
ye  ter  do  a  thing  ye  have  ter  do  it.  But  I'll  be  glad  when 
this  fight  terday  's  over." 

*' It'll  be  time  'nough  when  the  war  does  peter  out  ter 
figger  on  what  we're  goin'  ter  do  then, "  replied  Shorty. 
"We  ain't  out  o'  the  woods  yet,  'n'  mebbe — " 

A  bugle  blast,  sharp  and  clear,  brings  every  man  to  his 
feet. 

''Now,  my  brave  men,"  shouts  the  colonel,  ''we're  going 
into  that  fort ;  follow  me ! " 

The  soldiers  leap  over  their  intrenchments  and  with  loud 
cheers  dash  forward.  There  is  not  a  straggler;  all  such 
have  long  since  disappeared  from  the  ranks  of  the  200th. 

Those  within  the  fort  send  up  a  defiant  yell.  The  guns 
have  been  double-shotted,  and  at  each  stands  a  man  with 
the  lanyard  in  his  hand.  As  the  assailants  come  within 
range  there  is  a  roar  that  makes  the  earth  tremble.  Vol- 
umes of  flame  and  smoke  burst  from  the  embrasures  and 
a  tempest  of  canister  sweeps  the  charging  line.  Before 
that  withering  blast  many  a  gallant  hero  falls.  The 
ground  is  thickly  strewn  with  the  dead  and  wounded. 

"Forward!" 

No  need  to  give  command,  for  save  those  who  are  stricken 
down  not  a  man  falters.  Muskets  blaze  along  the.hostile 
line  and  bullets  sing  their  death-song.  Fast  as  men  can 
reload,  cannon  and  musket  send  forth  their  fiery  breath. 

The  200th  Indiana  leads  the  brigade  in  the  onward 
rush.  Comrades  fall  at  every  step.  Each  instant  of  time 
is  precious,  for  in  a  few  minutes  none  will  be  left.  The 
ranks  are  thin  and  ragged  but  they  sweep  on  with  no 


ON  TO  THE  CREST.  659 

thougHt  but  of  the  goal.  Close  upon  tfie  heels  of  the  200th 
press  those  of  the  other  regiments  whom  the  storm  of 
missiles  has  spared,  vying  with  one  another  to  first  scale 
the  wall  of  the  fort.  Often  a  flag  goes  down  as  its  bearer 
falls,  but  it  is  instantly  seized  and  borne  proudly  aloft,  as 
the  men,  with  loud  shouts,  fairly  leap  along  the  ground. 
Blood  is  streaming  from  some  who,  wounded  but  not  dis- 
abled, push  on  with  their  brave  comrades. 

Now  they  reach  the  abattis  of  stakes  and  brushwood. 
Some  have  brought  axes,  and  under  the  withering  fire 
from  the  fort  they  cut  and  slash,  while  their  comrades  at 
intervals  wrench  away  the  obstructions.  Through  the 
gaps  they  rush,  and  down  into  the  deep  trench  that  sur- 
rounds  the  fortification.  Now  they  are  below  the  range 
of  the  enemy's  guns,  but  shells  with  hissing  fuses  are  tossed 
over  the  parapet  to  burst  among  the  panting,  struggling 
soldiers  in  the  ditch.  The  assailants  cannot  stop  here. 
Retreat  or  surrender  they  will  not ;  but  is  it  possible  for 
them  to  advance  further  ? 

Quick  as  thought  some  mount  the  shoulders  of  others 
and  clamber  upon  the  bank.  Then  these  seize  their  com- 
rades by  the  hands  and  pull  them  up.  One  more  dash  and 
the  question  of  success  or  failure  will  in  a  moment  be 
solved.  They  sweep  up  the  steep  side  of  the  fort.  Some, 
pierced  by  angry  bullets,  roll  down  among  those  who  lie 
mangled,  dead  or  dying,  in  the  ditch  below. 

Has  Corporal  Klegg  escaped  the  bloody  havoc  of  the 
conflict  ?  Has  he  been  found  wanting  in  this  supreme  test 
of  human  courage  ?  Ah,  there  he  is,  among  the  foremost, 
far  up  the  blood-stained  slope.  His  garments  have  been 
torn  by  the  swift  missiles  and  his  hat  is  gone.  As  he  nears 
the  crest  he  turns  for  an  instant  and  shouts  a  word  of  en- 
couragement to  those  who  are  toiling  up  the  bank.  Not 
one  is  less  brave  than  he  among  all  the  officers  and  men 
in  that  devoted  band. 

At  the  same  instant  a  score  gain  the  summit  and  lea| 


660  WHERE  IS  SHORTY? 

into  the  very  arm^  of  the  foe.  A  moment,  and  fifty—a 
hundred  more,  have  followed,  and  the  reserves  are  swarm- 
ing over  the  crest.  Muskets  are  discharged  with  deadly 
eifectand  cruel  bayonets  are  plunged  into  quivering  bodies. 
Shouts,  groans  and  mad  yells  and  curses  are  commingled 
in  hideous  uproar. 

The  onslaught  is  irresistible.  The  Confederates  fling 
down  their  arms  and  yield  themselves  prisoners  or  seek  to 
escape  by  flight.  With  wild  shouts  of  triumph  the  vic- 
torious soldiers  pursue  the  fleeing  enemy.  At  other  points 
the  long  Confederate  line  has  been  broken  and  the  entire 
hostile  army  is  in  complete  rout.  Dozens  of  cannon  and 
battle-flags  are  taken,  and  prisoners  by  hundreds  and 
thousands.  The  triumphant  soldiers,  with  prodigious 
yells,  keep  up  the  pursuit  until  many  fall  to  the  ground  in 
utter  exhaustion. 

After  entering  the  fort  Si  had  missed  his  faithful  comrade, 
but  in  the  all-absorbing  rush  and  excitement  there  had 
been  no  opportunity  to  look  for  him  or  inquire  after  his 
welfare.  Shorty  was  at  his  side  when  the  200th  Indiana 
charged  over  the  open  ground  and  up  to  the  abattis.  He  was 
sure  that  they  must  have  been  separated  in  the  wild  con- 
fusion, and  that  he  would  find  his  pard  when  the  fight  was 
over.  As  soon  as  the  regiment  halted  Si  began  to  look 
about  and  to  ask,  with  constantly  increasing  anxiety,  for 
tidings  of  his  friend.  No  one  knew  what  had  become  of 
Shorty. 

A  detail  was  sent  back  to  the  fort  to  look  after  the  dead 
and  wounded.  Si  eagerly  volunteered  for  this  duty,  that 
he  might  search  for  his  friend  who,  if  a  brother,  could  not 
have  been  more  dear  to  him.  He  felt  a  keen  pang  at  the 
thought  that  perhaps  the  one  who  had  so  long  been  his 
constant  companion  was  lying— dead,  or  wounded  and 
suffering.  No ;  it  could  not,  it  must  not  be !  How  his  heart 
throbbed  as  his  hurrying  feet  neared  the  scene  of  the  dread- 
ful struggle ! 


si's  search  for  his  pard.  661 

Within  the  fort  lay  bodies  of  friend  and  foe,  where  they 
had  fallen  in  the  strife  for  the  mastery.  Si  went  from 
one  to  another  of  those  clad  in  blue,  looking  upon  the  dis- 
torted and  discolored  features,  now  and  then  gently  turn- 
ing one  that  lay  with  face  hidden.  Here  and  there  he 
recognized,  with  tear-dimmed  eyes,  a  brave  comrade  who 
had  gone  down  before  the  blast  of  death,  but  the  one  he 
sought  was  not  there. 

''Won't  somebody  give  me  a  drink  of  water !  " 
It  was  a  brave  boy  of  Company  Q,  who  lay  with  a  shat- 
tered leg,  beside  one  of  the  guns.     Si  dropped  upon  his 
knees  and  placed  his  canteen  to  the  parched  lips. 

** Thank  ye.  Si,"  said  the  sufferer,  ''that  makes  me  feel 
better.    Didn't  we  go  for  'em  ?" 

"  We  did,  fer  a  fact !" replied  Si,  as  he  picked  up  a  blanket 
and  placed  it  under  the  head  of  his  comrade.  "Jest  be 
quiet  a  bit  'n'  we'll  take  care  on  ye.  But — do  ye  know 
anything  'bout— Shorty  ?  I  hain't  seen  him— sence  the 
fight." 

"I  can't  tell  ye  where  he  is.  He  helped  me  to  climb  out 
o'  the  ditch,  an'  that 's  the  last  I  seen  of  him.  I  hope,  fer 
your  sake,  pard,  he  didn't  git  hurt." 

Si  passed  over  the  wall  of  the  fort  and  down  the  slope, 
examining  the  motionless  forms  that  lay  about,  but  he 
did  not  find  the  missing  one.  The  pain  that  was  growing 
in  his  heart  found  relief  for  an  instant  in  the  thought  that 
Shorty  might  be  a  prisoner.  But  he  remembered  that  in 
such  a  fight  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  them  to  lose  by 
capture,  and  the  burden  of  anxious  fear  lay  heavy  upon 
him  as  he  leaped  into  the  ditch  to  continue  the  sad  search. 
The  dead  and  the  desperately  wounded  lay  thickly  here. 
The  earth  was  crimsoned  by  the  streams  that  had  flowed 
from  heroes'  veins.  Si  had  not  long  to  look.  There  are 
many  survivors  of  the  war  who  can  appreciate— for  such 
arrows  pierced  t/ze/r  hearts— the  bitter  anguish  that  thrilled 
him  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  face  and  form  of  his  prostrate 


662  THE  PULSE  IS  FOREVER  STILL. 

comrade.  There  was  no  sound  nor  movement  to  give 
sign  of  life.    The  clothing  was  reddened  with  blood. 

**  Shorty!  "  he  said,  convulsively,  as  he  knelt  beside  him, 
clasping  in  one  of  his  own  the  nerveless  hand  that  lay 
across  the  breast,  and  with  the  other  pressing  the  clammy 
forehead.  ''Shorty!"  he  repeated,  in  tremulous  tones 
that  conveyed  a  wealth  of  tenderness  and  affection,  ''can't 
ye  speak  a  word  to  me,  pard  ?  Can  t  ye  jest  open  yer  eyes 
'n'  look  at  me?  "  Tears  flowed  unchecked  down  the  face 
of  Si,  as  he  pressed  the  unresponding  hand,  and  gently 
smoothed  the  face  of  his  comrade  The  feebly  fluttering 
pulse  told  that  the  spark  of  life  had  not  yet  gone  out. 

The  warm,  tender  touch  revived  the  dying  soldier.  He 
opened  his  eyes,  already  dimmed  by  the  film  of  death.  He 
gazed  into  the  face  of  Si  and  a  faint  smile  of  recognition 
lighted  up  the  pallor  upon  brow  and  cheek.  His  lips 
moved  as  if  he  would  speak,  but  no  sound  reached  Si's 
straining  ear. 

"Dear  Shorty" — and  Si's  words  came  heavily  as  the 
tears  flowed  afresh — "ye  mustn't  die!  Don't  leave  me, 
pard !    Here,  take  a  drink  out  o'  my  canteen." 

"Si,"  said  Shorty,  in  a  slow,  feeble  whisper,  'did— we — 
get— the— fort?" 

"Course  we  did,"  replied  Si,  "I  knew  we  would  when 
we  started  fer  it.  Now  I  want  ye  ter  cheer  up  'n'  we'll  git 
ye  out  o'  here.    YeVe  got  ter  git  well  o'  this  !  " 

His  comrade  had  recognized  and  spoken  to  him,  and  Si's 
heart  throbbed  with  a  brief  happiness,  born  of  the  hope 
that  Shorty  would  not  die.  But  even  then  the  eyes  had 
closed  to  open  not  again,  and  the  pulse  was  forever  still. 
It  was  some  minutes  before  Si  could  believe  that  Shorty 
was  dead.  He  knelt  long  beside  the  lifeless  body,  clasping 
the  stiffening  hand.  The  realization  of  his  bereavement 
brought  upon  his  tender  heart  a  crushing  weight  of  grief 
that  he  had  never  known,  and  that  only  time  could 
lighten. 


THE  SOLITARY  MOURNER. 


663 


With  choking  voice  Si  asked  two  or  three  of  his  comrades 
to  assist  him  in  lifting  Shorty's  body  out  of  the  ditch. 
They  bore  it  to  a  grassy  spot,  tinder  a  spreading  tree, 
which  Si  chose  for  his  companion's  resting-place. 

''He's  mine,''  said  Si,  ''  'n'  I'll  bury  him ! " 

Procuring  a  shovel  he  dug  a  grave.  An  unspeakable 
sadness  filled  his  heart  as,  with  the  help  of  another,  he 
gently  wrapped  the  body  in  a  blanket,  and  they  lowered 
it  into  the  ground. 

'*  I  wish  ther'  was 
some  preacher  here,"  he 
said,  ''  to  say  sich  a 
prayer  's  Shorty  de- 
sarves.  'Tain't  a  Chris- 
tian way  to  kiver  him 
up  'thout  nothin'  bein' 
said!" 

Si  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  knelt 
beside  the  open  grave 
and  reverently  repeated 
the  Lord's  prayer. 

''That's  the  best  I  kin 
do, "  he  said .  ' '  My  pard 
wa'n't  a  saint,  'cordin' 
as  folks  jedges  'em,  but 
I  hope  God  '11  take  him  up  to  heaven .  If  ther'  don't  no  wuss 
people  'n'  him  git  thar  it  '11  be  a  good  'nuff  place  fer  me !  " 

Then  Si  softly  covered  from  sight  the  body  of  his  com- 
rade. He  rudely  carved  with  his  knife  a  piece  of  board 
and  placed  it  at  the  head.    It  bore  the  inscription : 


HE   WAS  MY  PARD. 


SHORTY 
Co  Q  200th  Ind. 

HE   WAS*  MY   FARD. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

The  End  Comes  at  Last,  and  Si  Puts  Off  the  Army  Bluh. 

THERE  was  no  more  fighting  for  the  200th  Indiana. 
The  rebel  army  whose  guns  it  had  so  often  faced 
was  routed  and  scattered  as  no  other  army  had  been  dur- 
ing the  war.  As  an  aggressive  force  it  had  almost  passed 
out  of  existence.  Its  torn  and  battered  fragments  were 
gathered  and  transported  to  a  distant  field  of  operations, 
but  they  took  small  part  in  the  closing  events  of  the 
mighty  struggle. 

For  some  months  the  200th  was  engaged  in  lazily  guard- 
ing the  railroads  against  imaginary  foes,  moving  about 
from  place  to  place,  seemingly  with  no  other  purpose  than 
to  promote  digestion. 

Si  grieved  long  and  sorely  over  the  death  of  Shorty. 
The  sorrow  of  a  bereaved  husband  or  wife  was  nevermore 
sincere  and  poignant  than  that  of  Corporal  Klegg  for  his 
heroic  and  helpful  pard.  He  did  not  realize  until  he  was 
gone  how  much  he  had  leaned  upon  Shorty,  and  how  he  had 
been  strengthened  and  comforted,  through  trial  and  suffer- 
ing, by  the  companionship.  For  a  time  he  was  inconsola- 
ble, but  the  passing  weeks  and  months  gently  assuaged  the 
bitterness  of  his  affliction.  There  were  few  of  his  comrades 
who  had  not  also  been  called  to  mourn  the  death  of  those 
near  and  dear,  and  he  knew  it  was  the  part  of  a  good 
soldier  to  bear  with  resignation  the  manifold  trials  that 
fell  to  his  lot.    Gradually  his  wonted  cheerfulness  returned, 

664 


THE  CEDAR  FIRE.  665 

but  faithfulness  to  the  memory  of  Shorty  would  not  per- 
mit him  to  seek  another  ''pard."  It  seemed  to  him  sac- 
rilege— as  when  Hymen  clasps  new  ties  over  a  freshly  made 
grave.  The  daily  round  of  duty  in  camp  and  the  chang- 
ing scenes  of  the  march  diverted  his  mind  from  his  bereave- 
ment, but  he  never  sat  down  to  his  coffee  and  crackers,  or 
rolled  himself  in  his  blanket  at  night,  without  a  lonely 
feeling  that  clouded  his  heart  with  sadness. 

One  evening  the  members  of  the  little  band  that  remained 
of  the  200th  Indiana  w^ere  gathered  around  the  blazing 
camp-fires.  Dry  cedar  rails  were  plenty  and  there  was  no 
restraint  upon  their  use.  The  fangs  of  the  orders  against 
foraging  had' long  since  been  drawn,  and  those  once 
sonorous  proclamations  lay  idle  and  meaningless  in  the 
order-books  of  the  generals. 

Cedar  rails  were  the  soldier's  favorite  fuel,  particularly 
when  the  weather  was  cool  and  a  quick,  warm  fire  was 
wanted .  Nothing  else  responded  to  the  match  so  promptly 
and  furiously,  with  a  roaring  blaze  that  speedily  tempered 
the  chilliest  air,  and  diffused  comfort  and  cheer  throughout 
the  camp.  The  only  fault  of  the  cedar  fire  was  the  con- 
stant cracking  and  snapping,  almost  as  loud  as  a  volley 
of  pistol  shots,  that  scattered  the  glowing  coals  over  a 
range  of  many  feet.  Millions  of  holes  were  burned  in 
clothing,  blankets  and  tents  during  the  war  by  the  sparks 
and  blazing  fragments  that  shot  from  heaps  of  cedar  rails. 
But  this  annoying  characteristic  was  freely  forgiven ;  and 
when  going  into  bivouac  on  a  cold  or  stormy  night,  the 
soldiers  pitched  their  yells  in  a  higher  ke^^  if  they  found 
that  the  adjacent  fences  were  of  cedar. 

On  the  evening  in  question  the  men  piled  high  the  crack- 
ling fires  and  circled  around  them  in  fine  spirits.  They 
had  potatoes  and  chickens  galore,  for  that  section  of 
country  had  not  been  overrun  and  devastated  by  the 
laostile  armies,  and  many  of  the  boys  had  recently  received 
^om  the  North  a  fresh  supply  of  " fac-simile  money."  This 


666  FLUSH  TIMES  WITH  THE  BOYS. 

was  simply  counterfeit  Confederate  currency.  Perhaps  it 
could  scarcely  be  called  ''counterfeit, "in  the  sense  in  which 
the  word  is  usually  applied  to  spurious  money,  for  it  was 
intrinsically  worth  as  much — a  cent  a  pound  for  old  paper 
— as  was  the  so-called  money  of  the  alleged  Southern  Con- 
federacy. The  ' '  fac-simile  "  bills,  in  denominations  of  from 
five  to  five  hundred  dollars,  were  printed  in  prodigious  quan- 
tities by  enterprising  men  in  the  North,  and  sold  at  the  rate 
of  about  twenty-five  cents  for  a  thousand  ''dollars."  It  was 
a  fair  imitation  of  the  cheap  and  poorly  engraved  stuff  that 
was  issued  by  the  government  at  Richmond.  Bushels  and 
bushels  of  the  counterfeit  bills  were  sent  down  to  the  army 
and  found  a  ready  market  among  the  soldiers,  few  of 
whom  were  disturbed  in  their  seared  and  leathery  con- 
sciences. If  they  argued  the  question  at  all,  they  had  no 
difficulty  in  making  themselves  believe  that  it  was  as 
valuable  as  the  genuine  Confederate  "money." 

It  was  largely  used  to  lubricate  the  wheels  of  trade  with 
ignorant  whites  and  negroes,  for  chickens,  milk,  vegeta- 
bles and  other  "truck.-'  A  soldier  with  his  pockets  stuffed 
with  "fac-simile  "  was  a  millionaire,  and  cared  nothing  for 
expense,  squandering  his  pelf  with  the  greatest  prodigality. 
He  would  freely  give  twenty  dollars  for  a  canteen  of  milk, 
or  a  hundred  for  a  fowl ;  while  the  guileless  people  who  re- 
ceived such  enormous  prices  were  deluded  with  the  belief 
that  they  were  accumulating  wealth  at  a  bewildering  rate, 
and  would  soon  become  bloated  aristocrats. 

No  doubt,  judged  from  a  high  moral  plane,  this  practice 
could  not  have  been  commended,  but  the  need  of  chickens 
was  urgent,  and  the  boys  thought  they  could  "buy"  them 
with  less  fi-iction  than  to  steal  them.  If  there  was  a 
hitch  in  trade  because  a  citizen  objected  to  taking  "fac- 
simiJee,"  as  he  called  it,  another  soldier  was  promptly  at 
hand  with  a  supply  of  what  he  said  was  genuine  Confeder- 
ate money,  and  this  was  likely  to  be  satisfactory,  as  only 
an  expert  could  detect  the  difference.    Frequently  actual 


AN  EVENING   "OFF. 


667 


Confederate  currency  was  captured  in  considerable  quan- 
tities and  was  diffused  among  the  troops.  This  and  the 
"  fac-simile "  were  largely  used  in  the  game  of  poker. 
Fabulous  sums  were  staked  with  a  recklessness  that  re- 
calls ante-bellum  days  on  the  Mississippi. 

Seated  around  the  snapping  fires,  the  men  of  the  200th 
Indiana  abandoned  themselves  to  jest  and  laugh  and  song. 
They  told  stories  and  recounted  many  an  incident,  gay  or 
sad,  of  their  life  in  the  tented  field.    They  exhausted  the 


AROUND  THE   CAMP-FIRE. 


repertoire  of  army  songs.  It  may  well  be  imagined  that 
they  sang  ''with  the  spirit  and  with  the  understanding 
also," such  selections  as  ''Just  Before  the  Battle,  Mother," 
** Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp,  the  Boys  are  Marching,"  "When 
this  Cruel  War  is  Over,"  "Kingdom  Coming,"  "Wake, 
Nicodemus,"  "Battle  Cry  of  Freedom,"  and  a  score  of 
others.  ^ 

Then  came  those  rollicking  songs  which  were  indigenous 
to  the  army.  They  were,  in  spots,  glaringly  defective  in 
sense,  rhyme  and  meter,  but  they  were  familiar  to  every 


668  THE  ARMY  SONGS. 

soldier,  from  Virginia  to  Texas.     ''Dixie"  was  parodied, 
beginning  in  this  way : 

I  wish  I  was  in  de  land  ob  cotton, 

Cinnamon  seeds  and  sandy  bottom, 

Look  away,  look  away,  look  away  to  Dixie  land. 

An  epitome  of  the  four  years  of  war  was  given  in  the 
following  verses — varying  somewhat  in  different  parts  of 
the  army — which  went  galloping  to  the  tune  ''When 
Johnny  Comes  Marching  Home."  The  terse  statements  of 
fact  contained  in  this  song  cannot  be  questioned,  however 
much  the  reader  may  dissent  from  the  convivial  sentiments 
in  the  closing  lines  of  each  verse : 

In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-one, 

Free-ball '.    Free-ball ! 
In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-one, 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 
In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-one. 
The  war  had  then  but  just  begun; 
And  we'll  all  drink  stone  blind, 

Johnny,  fill  up  the  bowl ! 

In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two, 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 
In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two. 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 
In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two. 
They  first  began  to  put  us  through. 
And  we'll  all  drink  stone  blind, 

Johnny,  fill  up  the  bowl !  • 

In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-three, 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 
In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-three, 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 
In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-three, 
Abe  Lincoln  set  the  niggers  free ; 
And  w«'ll  all  drink  stone  blind, 

Johnny,  fill  up  the  bowl ! 

In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-four, 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 
Im  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-four, 

Free-ball !    Free-ball ! 


"free  and  easy."  669 

In  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-four 
We  all  went  in  for  three  years  more ; 
And  we'll  all  drink  stone  blind, 
Johnn^^,  fill  up  the  bowl ! 

There  was  another,  decidedly  bacchanalian  in  its  char- 
acter, but  which  was  not  as  bad  as  it  seems— that  is  to 
say,  it  was  often  sung  with  great  apparent  rehsh  by  whole 
companies  when  in  a  condition  of  most  praiseworthy 
sobriety,  and  by  many  who  never— in  or  out  of  the  army, 
on  ''Saturday  night "  or  at  any  other  time— for  a  moment 
thought  of  enforcing  the  '' right  "^so  vehemently  declared 
in  the  opening  lines.  The  first  part  was  sung  to  the  ap- 
propriate tune  "We  Won't  go  Home  till  Morning,  ^'switch- 
ing oiF  to  "America"  at  "Sosay  we  all  of  us;" 

And  every  Saturday  night,  sir, 
We  think  we  have  a  right,  sir, 
To  get  mcct  gloriously  tight,  sir, 
To  drive  dull  care  away ! 
To  drive  dull  care  away, 
To  drive  dull  care  away. 
It's  a  way  that  we  have  in  the  army, 
It's  a  way  that  we  have  in  the  army, 
It's  a  way  that  we  have  in  the  army, 
To  drive  dull  care  away ! 
So  say  we  all  of  us. 
So  say  we  all  of  us, 

So  say  we  all. 

So  say  we  all  of  us, 

So  say  we  all  of  us, 

So  say  we  all  of  us, 

So  say  we  all. 

To  the  cursory  reader  there  may  seem  to  be  an  unneces- 
sary amount  of  repetition  in  this,  but  the  words  were  so 
easily  remembered  that  all  could  sing  it  after  once  hearing 
it;  and  besides  the  iteration  gave  an  emphasis  to  the 
propositions  that  at  once  silenced  all  cavil.  By  the  time 
the  soldiers  got  through  singing  it,  "all  of  us ''  were  fully 
agreed. 

It  was  late  when  the  last  song  that  anybody  could  think 


670  THE  LAST 

of  had  been  sung.  The  tension  of  strict  discipline  was 
somewhat  relaxed,  and  more  latitude  was  permitted  than 
when  in  a  campaign  against  the  enemy.  At  length,  when 
the  oft-replenished  fires  had  burned  to  embers,  the  men 
knocked  the  ashes  from  their  pipes,  crept  into  their  "pup " 
tents  and  la^^  down. 

An  hour  passed,  and  all  save  the  guards  were  in  deep 
sleep.  Suddenly  the  sharp  rattle  of  the  long  roll  was 
heard,  mingled  with  the  blast  of  bugles,  as  one  after  an- 
other took  up  the  alarm.  And  such  a  long  roll  it  was! 
The  drummers  pounded  as  if  for  their  lives,  and  the 
buglers  blew  their  most  piercing  notes. 

The  startled  soldiers  came  tumbling  out  of  their  tents, 
dragging  their  muskets  after  them  and  buckling  on  their 
accouterments  as  they  ran.  In  half  a  minute  the  com- 
panies were  formed  and  were  hurrying  at  a  double-quick 
out  to  the  color-line.  It  was  a  moonless  night,  and  the 
darkness  of  the  oak  wood  ^vas  but  feebly  dispelled  by  the 
flickering  light  of  the  smoldering  fires.  Everybody  won- 
dered what  was  the  matter.  It  had  been  supposed  that 
there  was  no  armed  force  of  the  enemy  within  a  hundred 
miles,  but  the  only  thought  suggested  by  the  wild  alarm 
was  that  an  attack  was  imminent.  Every  ear  was 
strained  to  catch  the  sound  of  shots  on  the  picket-line, 
but  nothing  was  heard  save  the  turmoil  of  the  assembling 
troops,  and  the  hoarse  voices  of  the  oflicers  as  they  gave 
the  necessary  commands.  It  was  a  moment  of  anxious 
suspense. 

An  orderly  from  brigade  headquarters  dashed  up  and 
handed  a  message  to  the  colonel  of  the  200th  Indiana, 
who  read  it  by  the  dim  light  of  a  fagot.  Leaping  high  in 
the  air  he  gave  a  yell  that  an  Apache  chief  might  strive  in 
vain  to  rival.  The  men  thought  he  had  gone  crazy.  When 
he  came  down  he  discharged  another  yell,  and  then  hand- 
ing the  paper  to  the  wondering  adjutant  told  him  to  read 
it  to  the  regiment.    The  adjutant  glanced  at  it  and  yelled 


A  FOREST  FULL  OF  LUNATICS.  671 

A  duet  with  the  colonel.    Then  he  read  an  official  copy  of  a 
telegram  from  the  secretary  of  war,  announcing 

THE  SURRENDER  OF  LEE's  ARMY. 

If  the  inmates  of  a  score  of  lunatic  asylums  had  been 
suddenly  turned  loose  in  those  Tennessee  woods  the  scene 
could  not  have  been  more  ragingly  tempestuous  than  that 
which  followed  the  reading  of  this  dispatch.  Officers  and 
men  danced  and  hugged  one  another  and  shouted  and 
yelled,  rending  the  air  with  every  kind  of  sound  within  the 
compass  of  human  voices  well  practiced  in  the  making  of 
noises.  These  men  had  done  a  good  deal  of  yelling  before, 
but  never  anything  that  could  be  compared  to  this  hideous 
din. 

When  the  noise  had  partially  subsided,  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion of  the  vocal  forces,  the  soldiers  began  to  cast 
about  for  other  means  to  continue  the  racket.  It  mattered 
little  what  it  was— the  more  discordant  the  better — only  so 
that  it  helped  to  swell  the  unearthly  chorus.  They  tramped 
'^bout  beating  furiously  with  sticks  and  stones  all  the 
oamp-kettles  and  tin  pans  and  cans  that  the  camp  afforded. 
All  the  brass  bands  in  the  division  were  playing  but  no- 
body could  distinguish  a  tune.  On  all  sides  were  heard 
the  shriek  of  fifes  and  rattle  of  drums,  and  the  buglers 
almost  blew  their  heads  off  in  their  efforts  to  contribute 
to  the  prodigious  uproar.  One  regiment  after  another  be- 
gan to  fire  muskets.  The  men  took  the  cartridges  from 
their  boxes,  poured  in  the  powder,  rammed  down  the  paper 
for  wadding  and  blazed  away.  The  balls  they  threw 
upon  the  ground ;  there  was  no  further  use  for  them.  The 
artillery  opened,  and  battery  after  battery  sent  forth  its 
thunders  to  echo  among  the  mountains.  The  fires,  heaped 
with  wood,  blazed  high  and  the  forest  was  aglow. 

Men  did  everything  imaginable  that  was  grotesque 
and  ridiculous.  They  climbed  trees  and  yelled  from  the 
branches;  they  made  heroic  speeches  from  logs  and  stumps; 


672  ADDING  FUEL  TO  VHE  FLAME. 

they  turned  their  garments  inside  out ;  they  rode  ore  ?.n- 
other  on  poles — and  all  the  time  yelling  like  maniacs. 

Then  there  came  an  order  from  the  general  commanding 
for  the  issue  of  a  double  ration  of  ''commissary"  to  all  the 
soldiers.  Many  excellent  people  would  no  doubt  say  that 
this  was  a  highly  reprehensible  thing  for  the  general  to  do, 
Probably  it  was,  and  the  men  ought  to  have  poured  it 
upon  the  ground  instead  of  down  their  throats- -but  they 
didn't.  This  was  before  the  days  of  the  temperance  crusade, 
and  the  provocation  was  extraordinary.  If  there  ever 
was,  since  the  world  was  created,  a  valid  excuse  for  a  tem- 
porary lapse  from  sobriety,  that  occasion  furnished  it. 
Years  of  toiling  and  suffering  such  as  others  know  not; 
of  weary  marches  and  lonely  vigils,  in  summer's  heat  and 
winter's  storm ;  of  facing  the  cruel  missiles  of  war,  amidst 
scenes  of  death  and  human  anguish ;  years  that  had 
thinned  regiments  of  a  thousand  men  down  to  a  hundred 
— all  were  past,  the  end  had  come,  and  before  the  eyes  of 
those  scarred  and  war-worn  veterans  were  blessed  pictures 
of  peace  and  home.  It  is  not  possible  for  mortal  man,  ex- 
cept he  was  one  of  them,  to  understand  and  appreciate  the 
thoughts  that  filled  their  hearts.  Is  it  any  wonder  that 
they  indulged  in  these  wild  and  extravagant  demonstra- 
tions of  joy?  Above  personal  feeling  were  the  conscious- 
ness of  victory  at  last,  after  all  the  blood  and  wretched- 
ness, and  the  patriotic  rejoicing  over  a  nation  saved  bv 
their  valor  and  sacrifices.  Let  him  w^ho  would  cast  a  stone 
at  those  who  behaved  so  boisterously  that  night,  be  sure 
that  he  would  not  have  made  a  fool  of  himself  for  the 
time  being,  had  he  been  there. 

At  the  brigade  headquarters  a  horse-bucket  full  of  egg- 
nog  was  made,  and  the  general  and  his  staff  indulged  in 
copious  libations.  After  several  ''rounds"  they  sallied 
forth,  took  possession  of  the  instruments  of  the  band,  and 
formed  for  a  parade  through  the  camp.  The  general 
headed  the   procession    with    the  bass  drum,   which   he 


TIDINGS  THAT  MADE  SAD  HEARTS. 


673 


pounded  so  furiousl}^  that  he  broke  in  the  heads.  The 
staff  officers  blew  ear-spHtting  blasts  upon  the  horns  they 
carried.  As  the\^  marched  around,  regimental  and  company 
officers  and  hundreds  of  soldiers  fell  in  behind,  until  the 
column  of  howling  lunatics  was  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long. 
All  night  the  ''jamboree  "  was  continued,  and  the  morning 
sun  looked  upon  hundreds  still  engaged  in  ''celebrating,'* 
with  unflagging 
zeal.* 

The  next  day 
came  the  bale- 
ful tidings  that 
President  Lin- 
coln had  been  as- 
sassinated. The 
revulsion  of  feel- 
ing cannot  be  de- 
scribed. Thou- 
sands of  strong 
men,  whose  eyes 
had  long  been 
■unused  to  tears, 
twept  like  chil- 
dren when  the 
news,  which  they 
at  first  refused  to 
iDclieve,  Avas  fully  leading  the  jamboree. 

confirmed,  and  they  knew  that  "Father  Abraham,"  whose 
name  had  been  a  thousand  times  upon  their  lips,  in 
song  and  story,  had  been  stricken  down  by  the  hand  of  a 
murderer. 


*  The  foregoing  is  a  feeble  description  of  a  scene  in  the  camp  of  the 
Fourth  Corps,  in  which  the  writer  participated  to  the  utmost  of  his  lung 
power,  on  that  memorable  night  in  April,  1865.  There  are  yet  many  liv- 
ing who  will  testify  to  the  fact  that  the  picture  here  drawn  falls  far  short 
of  the  reality. 


674 


THE  200TH  INDIANA  DISCHARGED. 


A  few  w-eeks  later  the  remnant  of  the  200th  Indiana  was 
ordered  to  be  discharged.  At  the  capital  of  the  state  the 
survivors  were  paid  and  mustered  out  of  the  service.  The 
tattered  and  faded  flags  of  the  regiment  were  deposited 
in  the  State  House,  and  the  men  who  had  so  grandly 
followed  them  were  feasted  and  honored  by  a  grateful 
people. 

Few  of  the  discharged  veterans  went  home  with  their 
**  soldier  clothes  "  on.  Nearly  all  bought  complete  outfits  of 
citizen's  garb,  discarding  the  blue  garments  that  they  had 

so  long  and  honorably 
worn,  but  which  they 
hoped  never  to  put  on 
again. 

Si  Klegg  was  not  yet 
of  age.  His  tanned  face 
bore  abundant  testi- 
mony to  his  long  ex- 
posure to  the  elements, 
but  when  he  was  shorn 
and  shaven,  and  array- 
ed in  a  new  suit  of 
clothes  with  all  the 
trimmings,  he  was  as 
fine-appearing  a  fellow 
as  one  could  wish  to 
AFTER  A  VISIT  TO  THE  TAILOR.  scc.    A  grcat  happiucss 

filled  his  breast  when  those  of  the  little  squad  that  re- 
mained of  Company  Q  left  for  home.  The  parting  was 
not  without  sadness,  for  few  ties  on  earth  are  as  strong  as 
those  that  bind  the  hearts  of  men  who  so  long  marched 
and  fought  and  suffered  together.  But  he  was  going 
home,  conscious  that  he  had  acted  well  his  part,  and  had 
done  what  one  man  could  to  bring  the  final  victory.  Si 
Klegg  was  but  an  atom  of  the  mighty  army ;  but  it  was 
the  united  efforts  and  sacrifices  of  a  million  such  as  he  that 


COMPANY  q'S  welcome  HOME.  675 

overthrew  the  rebelHon  and  saved  the  nation  from  dis- 
memberment. 

The  "  Company  Q  boys  "  received  an  overpowering  wel- 
come at  home.  The  people  of  the  village  and  from  the 
adjacent  countr\^  turned  out  en  masse  to  greet  them  as 
they  alighted  from  the  train.  Farmer  Klegg  and  his  wife- 
and  Maria,  proud  and  eager,  were  there;  and  joyful  tears 
flowed  unchecked  as  they  twined  their  arms  around  son 
and  brother  and  pressed  him  to  their  beating  hearts.  An- 
nabel was  there,  with  moist  eyes  and  a  flush  upon  her  soft 
cheek.  Si  had  grown  brave  now,  and  as  soon  as  the 
family  embrace  relaxed  he  advanced  and  put  his  arms 
around  her  as  unflinchingly  as  if  she  had  been  a  rebel 
l}attery. 

Tumultuous  cheers  rent  the  air,  the  band  pla^'-ed  and 
banners  Waved  in  honor  of  the  soldiers  returned  from  the 
v^ar.  A  sumptuous  dinner  was  served  to  them  in  the  town- 
hall,  and  the  village  orators  exhausted  their  eloquence  in 
giving  them  welcome  and  glorifying  their  deeds  of  valor. 
By  the  time  the  speakers  got  through,  the  veterans  were 
pretty  well  convinced  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  Com- 
pany Q  the  war  would  have  been  a  failure — on  the  Union 
«ide. 

Then  the  bo3^s  were  taken  in  charge  by  their  respective 
friends.  In  anticipation  of  Si's  return,  his  mother  and 
sister  had  for  days  done  little  except  cook,  and  he  found 
Tiimself  in  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  hone3^ 

That  night  Si  had  the  ''best  bed"  in  the  house.  As  he 
threw  himself  upon  it  he  sank  down  in  a  sea  of  feathers 
that  almost  covered  him.  Of  course  he  could  not  sleep  in 
such  a  bed,  and  in  the  morning,  when  his  mother  went  to 
call  him  to  breakfast,  she  was  amazed  to  find  him  lying  on 
the  floor. 

''Tell  ye  what  'tis^  mother,"  he  said,  "I  didn't  like  ter 
go  back  on  yer  nice  bed,  but  'twa'n't  no  use.  I  swum 
Votmd  'n   them   feathers   purty  much  all   night,  but   I 


676  "the  'union'  forever." 

couldn't  git  ter  sleep  t'll  I  bunked  down  on  the  floor. 
That's  a  leetle  more  like  the  beds  I  slep'  on  'n  the  army. 
I  b'lieve  t'night  I'll  rig  up  a  piip-tent,  put  down  some  rails 
ter  lie  on,  'n'  take  my  old  U.  S.  blanket  'n'  crawl  in.  Then 
ef  you  'n'  father  'n'  Marier  '11  jest  git  a  gun  apiece  'n'  keep 
shootin'  purty  cluss  to  me  all  night,  I  kia  git  a  good 
squar'  sleep.'* 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Si  Finds  it  Much  Easier  to  Get  AIarried  than  to  Get  a  Pension. 

IT  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Si  Klegg  and  Annabel 
were  soon  ''mustered  in."  They  fell  early  victims  to 
the  malignant  connubial  epidemic  that  devastated  the 
ranks  of  the  soldiers  and  sweethearts  for  two  or  three 
years  immediately  following  the  war.  The  parents  of 
both  thought  they  were  ''  ower  young  to  marr\'  yet,"  but 
their  feeble  opposition  on  this  score  quickly  melted  away 
before  the  fierce  heat  of  affection's  fires  in  those  young 
hearts.  So  parental  objections  were  waived  and  there  was 
a  wedding. 

Most  of  the  young  soldiers  began,  as  soon  as  they  were 
discharged,  to  think  about  getting  married.  They  had 
fairly  earned  the  right  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  wedded 
life,  under  their  own  vines  and  fig  trees.  They  seemed  to 
have  little  difficulty  in  finding  "pards,"  and  everywhere 
v^as  heard  a  joyous  chorus  of  marriage-bells. 

During  his  last  year  or  two  in  the  army  Si  had  had  few 
dealings  with  the  sutler,  and  had  strictly  kept  his  promise 
to  Shorty  not  to  play  "  chuck-a-luck, "  so  that  with  his  vet- 
eran and  local  bounties  he  managed  to  save  a  few  hundred 


SI  BECOMES  A   "COLONEL."  677 

dollars.  This  sum,  comfortably  augmented  by  marriage 
portions,  enabled  him  to  buy  a  small  farm,  on  which  he 
and  Annabel  entered  upon  a  quiet  and  uneventful  life. 

Si  was  more  fortunate  in  this  respect  than  thousands  of 
his  fellow-soldiers  who — even  though  not  impaired  in  health 
or  disabled  by  wounds— found  themselves  thrown  upon 
their  own  resources,  at  a  great  disadvantage  as  compared 
with  those  who  had  remained  at  home.  They  had  given 
years  to  the  service  of  their  country,  just  at  the  age 
when  they  would  otherwise  have  been  fitting  themselves 
by  education  and  business  training  to  fight  their  way 
in  the  scramble  for  position  and  wealth;  and  now  theif 
previous  plans  were  deranged  or  wholly  broken  up. 

Promotion  was  much  more  rapid  in  civil  life,  after  the 
war,  than  in  the  army.  People  soon  began  to  call  Si 
*' Captain,"  then  *' Major,''  and  in  a  year  or  two  he  was 
addressed  as  ^'Colonel."  This  galloping  advancement  in 
rank  was  very  general,  until  there  seemed  to  be  no  privates 
or  corporals  left.  A  stranger  would  have  supposed  that 
the  enlisted  men  were  all  killed  in  the  war,  or  that  the 
army  was  made  up  in  accordance  with  the  suggestion  of 
the  late  '' Artemus  Ward,"  who,  in  1861,  proposed  to  or- 
ganize a  company  composed  entirely  of  brigadier-generals. 

For  a  time  after  laying  off  his  uniform  Si  Klegg  had  the 
feeling  common  to  the  disbanded  volunteers — ^the  very  sight 
of  blue  clothes  was  hateful  to  him.  He  was  thoroughly 
disgusted  with  '* soldiering"  and  tired  of  the  war;  he 
never  wanted  to  hear  of  it  again.  But  as  the  years  passed 
on  memory  recalled  with  constantly  increasing  vividness 
the  scenes  of  the  past,  and  awakened  in  his  heart  a  yearn- 
ing to  once  more  grasp  the  hands  and  look  into  the  faces 
of  his  old  comrades — those  who  marched  by  his  side,  and 
with  whom  he  touched  elbows  as  the  200th  Indiana  faced 
the  battle  storm.  A  few  of  his  fellow-soldiers  of  Company 
Q  had  remained  in  the  neighborhood,  but  nearly  all  the 
members  of  the  regiment  were  scattered  to  the  four  winds. 


678 


A   REUNION  OF  THE  200TH. 


Si  was  rejoiced  one  day  when  he  saw  a  call  for  a  reunion 
of  the  survivors  of  the  200th.  His  work  was  pressing, 
but  he  told  his  wife  that  the  farm  would  have  to  run  itself 
for  two  or  three  days ;  he  was  going  to  that  reunion  if 
they  had  to  live  on  hardtack  and— bacon  all  winter.  He 
told  Annabel  that  she  and  the  children  must  go,  too— for 
by  this  time  there  was  a  thriving  crop  of  infantry  that 
gave  promise  of  being  ready  for  the  next  war. 

So    they    all    went    to   the    reunion.       The    veterans 
(yj  ,     ^  came  from  far  and 


near,  responding  to 
the  summons  as 
promptly  as  they 
did  so  many  times 
when  drum  and  bu- 
gle called  them  to 
duty.  Tears  moist- 
ened their  eyes  as 
they  met  again 
and  clasped  one 
another  in  their 
sturdy  arms. 

The     veterans 


sang  the  old  war 
fought 


THE  NEW  CROP  OF  INFANTRY. 


songs  and 
their  battles  over 
around  the  camp- 
fire,  and  their  wives 
and  children  en- 
joyed it  almost  as  much  as  they  did.  Some  of  those 
who  never  smelt  powder  or  heard  a  bullet  whistle  told 
the  biggest  stories  — just  as  they  have  been  doing  at 
every  gathering  of  soldiers  since  the  war.  Strident  ora- 
tors, whose  courage  never  rose  to  the  point  of  enlistment, 
at  all — of  that  class  aptly  described  as  '*  invincible  in  peace, 
invisible  in  war" — talked  long  and  vehemently,  trying  to 


679 

instruct  the  old-soldiers  in  lessons  of  patriotism  and  valor. 
The  *' boys  "—for  so  they  still  called  one  another — had  such 
a  good  time,  that  with  a  tremendous  and  unanimous 
*'aye"  they  voted  to  hold  a  reunion  every  year.  These 
meetings  bound  together  even  more  closely  than  before  the 
hearts  of  the  comrades. 

The  war  had  not  long  been  over  until  the  politicians, 
irrespective  of  part}^,  began  to  bait  their  hooks  to  ^' catch 
the  soldier  vote."  Eminent  patriots,  who,  yielding  to  the 
importunities  of  their  fellow-citizens,  had  consented  to  be- 
come candidates  for  office,  often  called  around  to  see 
*'  Colonel "  Klegg  and  secure,  if  possible,  his  ballot  and  his 
influence  in  their  behalf.  They  talked  grandly  of  their  love 
and  admiration  for  the  brave  defenders  of  the  flag,  and 
made  picturesque  promises  what  they  would  do  for  those 
who  so  faithfully  served  their  country.  These  promises 
were  usually  forgotten  as  soon  as  the  polls  closed  on  election 
day;  nor  were  they  recalled  by  these  men  with  defective 
memories  until  another  political  campaign  made  it  neces- 
sary to  scratch  around  again  for  votes.  Si  felt  a  laudable 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  country,  and  like  a  good  citizen 
he  marched  in  torchlight  processions  and  yelled  himself 
hoarse  at  mass-meetings  and  barbecues.  He  swung  his 
hat  and  shouted  when  the  election  returns  showed  majori- 
ties for  his  side;  and  when  the  other  fellows  came  out 
ahead  he  mourned  because  the  country  was  ''going  to  the 
dogs,"  and  he  had  fought  and  bled  in  vain.  But  the  ship 
of  state  kept  on  her  course  just  the  same,  and  he  found  it 
really  made  little  difference  which  politicalparty  wasat  the 
helm. 

Not  one  in  ten  thousand  of  the  two  and  a  half  million 
men,  who  so  promptly  responded  to  their  country's  call  in 
the  day  of  her  calamity,  paused  to  inquire  whether  he 
would  be  pensioned  in  case  he  should  be  disabled  by 
wounds  or  disease.  When  Si  Klegg  signed  the  roll  of 
Company  Q  he  did  not  even  know  what  a  pension  was. 


680  SI  THINKS  ABOUT  A  PENSION, 

He  knew  only  that  the  government  needed  his  services, 
and  he  offered  them  freely,  without  a  thought  of  the 
future. 

Si  came  out  of  the  war  in  good  condition,  so  far  as 
surface  indications  went.  His  physical  vigor  was  seem- 
ingly unimpaired,  and  his  friends  said  his  army  life  had 
*'made  a  man  of  him."  His  wound  had  not  disabled  him, 
although  it  continued  to  give  him  trouble  at  tim.es.  As 
long  as  he  was  able  to  make  his  way  in  the  world  he 
refused  to  entertain  the  idea  of  being  a  pensioner. 

But  as  the  years  went  by  he  began  to  grow  prematurely 
old— as  did  nineteen  out  of  every  twentj^  men  who  endured 
so  much.  Every  now  and  then  Congress  passed  some  new 
pension  bill,  and  each  enactment  was  closely  followed  by  a 
bombardment  of  circulars  from  three  or  four  dozen  attor- 
neys, in  all  parts  of  the  country,  assuring  Si  that  he  was 
entitled  to  its  benefits,  and  offering  to  undertake  his  case 
for  a  consideration.  At  length  he  began  to  think  about  it 
in  a  serious  way.  He  heard  a  good  deal  about  the  over- 
flowing vaults  of  the  United  States  treasury.  The  govern- 
ment seemed  to  have  more  money  than  it  knew  what  to 
do  with,  and  Si  felt  that  he  had  borne  an  humble  part 
in  bringing  the  country  into  such  a  condition  of  bound- 
less prosperity.  But  for  the  sufferings  and  sacrifices  of 
such  as  he  the  Nation — with  a  big  N — would  have  long 
since  ceased  to  exist,  and  in  its  stead  would  have  been 
several  little  nations,  unworthy  of  capital  letters.  Why 
should  not  the  government,  rich  and  prosperous  and 
powerful,  secure  him  and  Annabel  and  the  little  Kleggs 
against  want,  if  so  be  that  early  decrepitude  should 
result  from  his  years  of  service  in  the  army  ? 

When  Si  heard  some  people  grumble  because  such  large 
amounts  were  paid  each  year  for  pensions,  and  heard 
them  denounce  the  soldiers  as  ''coffee  coolers,"  ''beggars" 
and  "dead  beats,"  it  only  awakened  in  him  a  feeling  of 
pity  for   their   ignorance    and    narrow-mindedness.      He 


AND  GOES  TO  SEE  AN  AGENT.  681 

heard  such  expressions  from  none  except  persons  who 
stayed  at  home  during  the  war,  some  of  whom  grew  rich 
out  of  army  contracts. 

For  a  time  Si  Klegg  prospered,  but  at  length  reverses 
came.  One  year  a  drouth  burned  up  his  grain,  the  next 
floods  drowned  it,  and  the  next  it  was  devoured  by  flies, 
grasshoppers,  locusts  and  chinch-bugs.  Little  by  little  his 
health  gave  way.  The  seeds  of  disease  that  were  insidi- 
ously sown  during  those  months  and  years  of  exposure  to 
the  elements,  sprang  up  and  brought  forth  a  crop  of  ills 
that  in  course  of  time  almost'  unfitted  him  for  manual 
labor.  He  began  to  find  it  necessary  to  wear  patched 
clothes.  His  wife  was  obliged  to  ''make  over  "her  dresses. 
Th^ children  began  to  get  "out"  at  the  elbows  and  knees 
and  toes,  and  when  the  circus  made  its  periodical  visit 
they  had  to  stay  at  home,  provided  they  could  not  crav^l 
under  the  canvas. 

Then  Si  said:  "I  believe  I'm  as  much  entitled  to  a 
pension  as  anybody  else,  and  I'll  see  see  if  I  can  make 
Uncle  Sam  think  so."  He  did  not  then  know  how  dull  of 
comprehension  "Uncle  Sam"  is,  sometimes. 

So  one  day  he  drove  to  a  neighboring  town  to  see  a  pen- 
sion agent,  w^ho  had  sent  him  half  a  bushel  of  circulars 
during  the  previous  ten  years.  From  the  perusal  of  these 
he  had  come  to  believe  that  all  he  had  to  do  in  order  to 
get  a  pension  was  to  ask  for  it. 

"Let's  see,  "said  the  agent,  briskly,  "w^hat  kind  of  a  case 
'we  can  make  out  for  you.    Been  wounded  ?  " 

Si  bared  his  arm  and  showed  him  an  ugly  scar. 

'*  Mule  kick  ?  "  asked  the  agent. 

"No,  sirP^  replied  Si,  with  some  asperity.  "Piece  o' 
shell,  the  day  the  200th  Injianny  went  up  the  ridge.'* 

"That's  good — twenty  dollars  a  month  for  that.  Got 
,any  'rumaticks,'  from  lying  around  on  the  ground?  " 

"Plenty  of 'em." 

"  Good  again ;  they're  worth  ten  dollars  a  month  more." 


682  HE  MAKES  AN  APPLICATION. 

By  the  time  they  got  through  with  the  list  of  his  ail- 
ments Si  began  to  think  he  would  be  a  millionaire  in  a  few 
years. 

The  agent  said  he  was  very  busy  that  day  but  he  would 
give  him  a  blank  application  to  fill  out  which  he  promised 
to  forward  directly  to  Washington. 

When  Si  got  home  he  thought  he  would  go  over  and  talk 
with  one  of  his  neighbors — a  veteran  comrade  who  had 
succeeded  in  getting  his  claim  through  the  government 
** circumlocution  office,"  and  was  drawing  a  pension.  Si 
thought  his  friend's  counsel  and  assistance,  based  upon  his 
own  experience,  might  be  of  service  in  preparing  the  papers. 

Together  they  filled  out  the  application.  Si  hunted  up 
a  magistrate,  made  oath  to  it  in  due  form  and  mailed  it 
to  the  attornev.  Then,  in  the  course  of  a  couple  of  weeks 
he  began  to  look  for  his  pension.  He  thought  that  a  week 
ought  to  be  abundant  time  to  decide  a  case  so  clear  as  his, 
and  two  or  three  days  each  way  were  a  liberal  allowance 
for  the  mails  to  do  their  part  of  the  work. 

But  day  after  day  passed  and  Si  heard  nothing  from 
Washington.  At  the  end  of  a  month  he  began  to  grow 
fidgety  over  it,  and  called  again  upon  his  neighbor  to  ask 
him  what  could  cause  such  long  delay.  The  latter,  re- 
membering his  own  tribulations,  laughed  to  himself,  but 
was  loth  to  cast  a  shadow  over  Si's  life  by  telling  him  that 
he  would  be  fortunate  if  he  got  his  claim  through  in  three 
or  four  years. 

'*  Better  go  and  see  your  agent,"  he  said,  *'mebbe  he 
needs  to  be  stirred  up  with  a  sharp  stick." 

So  Si  took  another  ''day  off"  and  drove  over  to  call  upon 
his  attorney.  To  his  dismay  he  found  that  his  application 
was  lying  in  a  pigeon-hole,  not  having  been  sent  to  Wash- 
ington yet.  The  agent  said  he  had  forgotten  it,  in  the 
multiplicity'-  of  his  business  cares.  Si  gave  him  "  a  piece  of 
his  mind"— the  whole  of  it,  in  fact— and  the  agent  prom- 
ised to  lose  no  time  in  rushing  it  along. 


WANTED,  A    "hospital  RECORD."  683 

Then  Si  went  home  and  waited  again.  As  the  weeks 
passed  he  wrote  several  times  to  his  attorney  asking 
about  it  but  without  eliciting  any  reply.  At  length  he 
determined  to  ''blow  him  up,"  and  wrote  that  he  believed 
he  would  take  the  case  out  of  his  hands  and  try  some 
other  agent.  Then  the  agent  wrote,  telling  him  with  some 
warmth  that  he  need  not  expect  to  crowd  matters;  the 
officials  at  Washington  were  very  leisurely  in  their  ways, 
and  it  would  probably  take  him  as  long  to  get  his  pension 
as  it  did  to  earn  it. 

This  was  discouraging  to  Si.  It  seemed  to  him  as  though 
the  government  cared  nothing  for  him,  after  it  no  longer 
needed  his  services.  But  there  seemed  to  be  no  other  way, 
and  he  settled  himself  down  for  a  long  job  of  waiting. 

Six  months  later,  when  he  had  almost  forgotten  that  he 
had  ever  applied  for  a  pension,  the  post-master  handed  him 
a  big  letter  which  he  saw  at  a  glance  was  from  his  attor- 
ney. His  heart  gave  a  great  bound,  for  he  was  sure  that  at 
last  his  pension  had  come,  and  he  had  no  doubt  it  was  a 
liberal  one.  With  a  smile  upon  his  face  he  tore  open  the  en- 
velope and  found — a  lot  of  blanks,  with  a  demand  from  the 
Pension  Office  for  his  ''hospital  record." 

That  evening  he  went  over  to  see  his  neighbor  about  it. 

"Haven't  you  got  a  good  hospital  record  ?  "the  latter  in- 
quired, after  Si  had  shown  him  the  papers. 

"That 's  what  I  hain't  got,  pard,"  replied  Si.  "I  never 
was  in  the  hospital  only  jest  that  night  arter  the  fight.  I 
reck'nthedocters  had  all  they  could 'tend  to  'thoutspendin' 
no  time  keepin'  records.  The  gin'ral  sent  me  a  furlough  the 
next  day  and  I  came  home  for  a  spell.  All  the  rest  o'  the 
time  I  was  carryin'  a  musket  'long  'th  the  rijiment." 

"That's  bad,"  said  his  comrade,  "but  I  had  the  same 
sort  of  trouble,  myself.  The  people  at  Washington  take 
lots  of  stock  in  a  good  hospital  record.  It  helps  mightily 
in  getting  a  pension.  A  month  in  a  hospital,  even  if  you 
wa'n't  very  sick,  counts  more 'n  three  years  of  tr ampin'  an' 


684  WHAT  SI  OUGHT  TO  HAYE  DONE. 

fightin',  at  the  front.  If  I  ever  go  into  another  war  I'm 
going  to  stub  mj  toe  or  something,  if  I  can't  get  hurt  any 
other  way,  just  to  get  back  to  the  hospital  long  enough 
to  make  a  'record.'  Of  course  we  didn't  know  anything 
about  these  things  then,  but  I'll  be  sharp  enough  for  'em 
next  time. " 

All  that  Si  could  do  was  to  write  a  statement  that  he 
had  no  hospital  record,  and  setting  forth  the  reasons  why 
such  was  the  fact.  It  took  six  months  more  for  the  Pen- 
sion Bureau  to  digest  this,  and  then  Si  got  another  letter. 
This  time  he  did  not  allow  his  emotions  to  get  the  advan- 
tage of  him.  He  opened  it  with  a  vague  hope  that  it  had 
brought  him  what  he  wanted,  but  really  finding  what  he 
expected — more  blanks,  and  a  requisition  for  further  infor- 
mation. He  must  get  the  certificate  of  the  surgeons  who 
dressed  his  wound,  and  who  treated  him  at  various  times 
for  the  diseases  which  resulted  in  his  disability. 

'^I  don't  know  what  I'm  goin'  to  do,''  he  said  to  his 
neighbor,  whom  he  regarded  as  his  sheet-anchor  for  advice 
and  assistance.  ''I  never  did  take  much  medicine  in  the 
army,  only  jest  once  'n  a  while  w^hen  me  and  Shorty 
wanted  to  play  off  from  fatigue  duty.  The  doctor  that 
dressed  my  wound,  he  moved  away,  to  Patagonia  orsome- 
v^here,  a  good  many  years  ago,  and  I  don't  know^  any- 
thing about  w^here  he  is." 

''You  ought  to  have  made  him  sit  right  down  an'  w^rite 
out  an  affidavit  an'  swar  to  it  that  night,  as  soon  as  he 
got  your  wound  tied  up,"  replied  his  friend,  with  a  laugh. 
"I've  got  a  boy  growin'  up,  an'  if  heever  has  to  go  to  war 
I'll  put  a  big  flea  in  his  ear." 

"I  guess  that  would  have  been  a  good  thing,"  said  Si, 
"but  the  fact  is  I  had  my  head  purty  full  of  somethin'  else 
that  night,  an'  I  didn't  think  of  it.  But  that  would  've 
been  a  nice  place  for  a  doctor  to  be  makin'  out  papers, 
wouldn't  it— he  a-sawin'  an'  cuttin'  legs  and  arms  and  the 
ground  covered  with  men  groanin'  and  dyin'  all  around 


MORE  AFFIDAVITS.  685 

him  ?  It 'd  be  a  fine  thing  for  him  to  let  'em  die  and  go 
to  makin'  out  affidavits !  " 

Acting  upon  his  friend's  suggestion  Si  went  again  to  see 
his  agent,  who  told  him  the  surgeon's  testimony  would  be 
valuable,  and  he  had  better  try  and  find  where  he  was. 

During  the  next  few  months  Si  found  plenty  of  amuse- 
ment for  his  leisure  time  in  writing  to  every  old  member 
of  the  200th  Indiana  he  could  hear  of,  in  the  hope  of  get- 
ting some  trace  of  the  lost  doctor,  squandering  an  acre  of 
his  wheat  in  stationery  and  postage-stamps,  but  without 
success.  He  informed  his  agent,  who  after  a  while  com- 
municated the  fact  to  the  Commissioner  of  Pensions. 

It  took  the  usual  time  to  unwind  the  red-tape  and  untie 
the  knots,  and  then  another  lot  of  blanks  was  sent  to  Si, 
with  instructions  to  get  the  affidavits  of  his  company 
officers,  or  of  some  of  his  comrades  who  personally  knew 
all  the  circumstances. 

Again  Si  called  upon  his  friend.  ''I  don't  see,"  he  said, 
**why  them  fellers  can't  b'lieve  what  I've  told  'em.  I  don't 
think  anybody  't  knows  Si  Klegg  'd  have  any  idee  he'd  lie 
'bout  such  a  thing  and  sw'ar  to  it  besides." 

**Fact  is,"  replied  his  neighbor,  ''they  think  every  soldier 
tells  the  biggest  kind  of  whoppers,  an'  every  man's  affida- 
vit has  to  be  propped  up  by  a  lot  more  or  they  won't  go  a 
cent  on  it.  You've  got  to  prove  that  you  ain't  lyin'. 
It 's tough,  but  you'll  find  it 's  true.  'Tain't  no  use  to  kick 
agin  the  United  States  Government." 

''But  I'm  afeard  I  can't  get  'em.  One  of  our  officers  \vas 
killed  in  that  fight  when  I  was  wounded,  and  the  other 
that  was  there  has  died  sence  the  vrar.  The  pension  folks 
can't  get  any  testimony  out  o'  them  unless  they're  fust- 
class  mejums.  I  reck'n  ^perits  ain't  no  good  at  Washing- 
ton— leastwise  not  that  kind.  All  the  boys  is  scattered 
'from  Dan  to  Beersheba.'  " 

*'I  reckon  you'd  better  try  an'  hunt  some  of  'em  up,  if 
Ti'ou  can't  oret  at  anv  of  the  officers.    It  takes  two  or  three 

,1  o  ^ 


686  INFORMATION  WANTED  AGAIN. 

of  them  that  was  only  soldiers  to  count  as  much  as  one 
officer  in  giving  testimony.  I  don't  believe  the  boys  used 
to  lie  in  the  army  any  worse  than  the  officers  did,  but  the 
government  seems  to  think  the  officers  has  all  got  con- 
verted since  the  v^ar." 

Then  Si  buckled  down  again  to  the  work  of  writing  let- 
ters. Many  weeks  elapsed  before  he  succeeded,  but  he 
at  length  found  himself  in  the  possession  of  an  array  of 
affidavits  from  his  old  comrades  that  he  was  sure  ought  to 
satisfy  even  so  insatiable  and  exacting  a  person  as  his 
Uncle  Sam.  When  he  mailed  these  to  his  attorney  he  be- 
lieved they  would  settle  the  matter  in  short  order  These 
affidavits  covered  his  wound  and  also  fully  set  forth  the 
hardship  and  exposure  he  had  endured,  which  he  considered 
ample  to  account  for  the  diseased  condition  of  his  physi- 
cal system. 

With  a  placid  confidence  Si  patiently  awaited  the  effect 
of  this  broadside.  By  the  time  another  section  of  his  hair 
had  turned  gray  he  heard  again  from  Washington.  The 
envelope  did  not  contain  a  pension  certificate,  but  a  call 
for  more  affidavits— of  all  the  doctors  who  had  treated 
him  since  his  discharge  from  the  army,  setting  forth  his 
present  condition,  and  why  he  had  permitted  his  health  to 
fail.  He  must  present  a  schedule  setting  forth  in  detail  all 
the  different  kinds  of  medicine  he  had  taken  and  the  quan- 
tity of  each,  and  what  for ;  with  exemplified  copies — to  be 
filed  as  ''exhibits"— of  all  the  prescriptions  he  had  had 
filled  at  drug-stores  since  the  -wslt,  these  to  be  accom- 
panied by  the  photographs,  autographs  and  certificates  of 
the  clerks  who  filled  them,  with  affidavits  proving  their 
good  character  for  veracity,  and  whether  they  were  mar- 
ried or  single,  and  if  so,  why;  also  the  affidavits  of  credi- 
ble persons  who  actually  saw  Josiah  Klegg  take,  drink, 
swallow,  gulp,  ingurgitate  and  absorb,  all  and  singular, 
the  doses  of  such  medicine  aforesaid  alleged  to  have  been 
by  him  so  taken,  drank,  swallowed,  gulped,  ingurgitated 


*•  PRIOR  SOUNDNESS.'*  687 

and  absorbed;  also  be  was  required  to  state,  to  a  cer- 
tainty, the  name  of  the  individual  who  struck  the  late 
lamented  **  Billy  Patterson." 

Si  had  already  laid  in  a  considerable  stock  of  experience 
with  official  circumlocution,  so  that  all  this  did  not  sur- 
prise him  much.  He  had  ceased  to  wonder  at  anything. 
He  did  all  he  could  to  comply  with  the  requirements,  sent 
on  the  affidavits — and  waited. 

Months  rolled  away,  and  then  still  another  voracious 
demand.  Solomon  wrote  in  Proverbs:  *' There  are  three 
things  that  are  never  satisfied,  yea,  four  things  say  not,  It 
is  enough."  If  he  had  written  a  few  jqslvs  after  the  Amer- 
ican civil  war  he  would  have  mentioned  five  things  instead 
of  four  which  ''are  never  satisfied,"  and  ''say  not.  It  is 
enough."  The  fifth  would  have  been  the  United  States 
Pension  Bureau. 

This  time  it  was  a  call  for  proof  of  "prior  soundness." 
Si  could  not  quite  comprehend  what  that  meant,  and  he 
went  over  and  asked  his  neighbor. 

"Why,  that  means, "said  the  latter, in  reply  to  Si's  ques- 
tion, "that  you've  got  to  prove  that  you  were  sound  and 
able-bodied  when  you  entered  the  service." 

"  Of  course  I  was— sound  as  a  dollar.  It  'd  be  jest  wast- 
in'  time  to  go  to  provin'  that.  I  never  heerd  of  so  much 
nonsense  in  all  my  born  days.  'Pears  like  they  think  at 
Washington  that  all  a  man  wants  is  to  git  his  pension  in 
time  to  pa3"  his  funeral  expenses !  " 

"I  agree  with  ye,  comrade,  but  all  the  same  you  have  to 
do  it.  The  government  takes  it  for  granted  that  every 
soldier  was  a  weak,  puny,  sickly  thing  when  he  enlisted,  and 
would  have  petered  out  if  he  hadn't  gone  to  the  war." 

"The  'listin'  officer  had  a  doctor  there  and  he  examined 
me  from  head  to  foot  and  said  I  was  in  fust-class  order." 

"Oh,  /ze  didn't  know  nothing  about  it,  of  course ;  and  you 
was  so  fierce  for  going  to  help  save  the  country  that  you 
probably  lied  about  it— anyhow  they  think  you  did,  and 


688  SI  GETS  A  PENSION  AT  LAST, 

you've  got  to  prove  that  you  didn't.  You'll  have  to  go  back 
and  show  that  your  grandfathers  and  great-grandfathers 
died  of  old  age.  Then  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  prove 
that  you  would  not  have  been  taken  sick,  or  bit  by  a  rattle- 
snake or  struck  by  lightning  if  you  had  stayed  at  home 
during  the  war.  You  see  you  might  have  been  killed  at 
home,  and  if  so,  going  to  war  saved  your  life  and  3^ou  ought 
to  be  very  thankful  for  it.  The  government  supposes  it  did 
you  a  great  favor  by  giving  you  the  opportunity  and  the 
privilege  of  enlisting,  and  unless  you  can  prove  that  it 
didn't  there  won't  be  much  of  a  show  for  you !  " 

Si  had  no  difficulty  in  establishing  his  "prior  soundness." 
The  pension  authorities  could  not  think  of  anything  else, 
reasonable  or  unreasonable,  that  could  be  asked  for,  so 
they  devoted  a  few  months  to  sending  '"special"  agents 
into  the  neighborhood,  to  work  ''on  the  sly,"  and  find  out 
Si's  reputation  and  his  physical  condition,  that  the  Bureau 
might  reach  a  conclusion  as  to  whether  he  and  his  wit- 
nesses had  told  the  truth  or  not. 

At  last,  five  years  after  he  had  filed  his  application,  he 
got  word  one  day  from  his  agent  that  his  pension  had  been 
granted.  A  day  or  two  later  he  received  a  letter  bearing 
the  trade-mark  of  the  Commissioner  of  Pensions.  Has- 
tening home  he  gathered  about  him  his  expectant  family, 
broke  the  seal,  and  drew  out  the  document  that  was 
to  raise  them  to  a  condition  of  opulence.  He  began  at  the 
top  and  read  down  till  he  came  to  the  important  point. 
Then  they  learned  that  the  name  of  Josiah  Klegg,  late  of 
Company  Q,  200th  Indiana  Veteran  Volunteer  Infantry, 
had  been  placed  on  the  pension  roll  at  the  rate  of  one  dol- 
lar and  seventy-three  and  three-quarters  cents  per  month ! 

Si  looked  at  his  wife  and  she  looked  at  him,  and  the  chil- 
dren  looked  at  one  another.  He  read  it  again.  He  won- 
dered if  the  clerk  who  filled  it  out  had  not  made  a  mistake 
and  left  out  the  word  "hundred"  after  "one."  Then  he 
^  did  some  heavy  thinking. 


BUT  IT  WILL  NOT  BUY  HIS  SALT.  689 

"If  they'd  only  put  on  that  other  quarter  of  a  cent,"  he 
said  at  length,  when  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  his 
amazement  so  that  he  could  speak,  **I  wouldn't  ha'  keered. 
Looks  as  though  Uncle  Sam  was  about  as  poor  as  I  am, 
don't  it,  wife ?  Let's  see  " — and  Si  figured  it  out— ''that  '11 
be  about  twenty  dollars  a  year.  If  I  should  live  a  thou- 
sand years  that  M  be  twenty  thousand  dollars !  I  wish  I 
could  live  that  long,  jest  to  spite  the  government.  I  b'lieve 
I'll  jest  send  this  pension  back  an'  tell  'em  I  don't  want 
it ;  and  I'll  tell  'em  that  if  Uncle  Sam  's  so  hard  up  he'd 
better  pass  'round  the  hat  an'  we'll  all  chip  in  to  help  him 
out!" 

Si  fully  madeitp  his  mind  to  decline  the  pitiful  allowance, 
and  went  to  see  his  agent  to  get  his  assistance  in  writing 
a  letter  that  would  raise  blisters  on  every  department  of 
the  government  he  had  fought  and  bled  for.  The  agent 
told  him  he  had  better  hang  on  to  it.  True  it  w^as  not 
much,  and  it  w^ould  take  a  year's  allowance  to  pay  the 
attorney's  fee,  but  after  a  w^hile  he  might  get  an  increase ; 
or,  better  yet,  perhaps  a  bill  could  be  got  through  Congress 
that  would  do  him  justice. 

After  thinking  it  over  Si  concluded  to  reconsider  his  de- 
cision. He  was  favorably  impressed  with  the  proposition 
to  try  Congress.  The  Member  from  that  district  had  often 
told  him — in  election  campaigns — that  he  would  do  any- 
thing for  him  that  lay  in  his  power.  Si  had  an  exalted 
idea  of  the  Member's  influence  in  the  halls  of  national 
legislation,  and  he  would  see  him  at  once. 

There  was  to  be  another  election  that  fall  and  the  Mem- 
ber was  again  a  candidate.  He  told  Si  it  was  a  shame 
that  so  worthy  a  soldier  as  he  should  be  granted  such  a 
beggarly  pittance,  and  he  would  introduce  a  bill  the  first 
day  of  the  next  session.  So  Si  "took  off  his  coat,"  as  the 
politicians  say,  and  labored  unceasingly  to  secure  the 
Member's  re-election.  The  result  was  in  accordance  with 
kts  wishes,  and  he  threw  his  hat  in  the  air  when  the  count 


690  HE  TRIES  CONGRESS. 

of  the  votes  showed  a  majority  for  the  Moses  who  was  to 
lead  him  out  of  the  wilderness. 

Soon  after  the  opening  of  the  ensuing  session  of  Con- 
gress Si  received  a  copy  of  that  thrilling  periodical,  the 
Congressional  Record.  A  marked  paragraph  caught  his 
eye,  and  with  a  palpitating  heart  he  read  that  a  bill  had 
been  introduced  ''To  increase  the  pension  of  Josiah  Klegg, 
Company  Q,  200th  Indiana."  This  brought  happiness  to 
Si's  heart.  With  a  sublime  faith  in  the  Member's  magic 
power,  he  had  no  doubt  that  the  bill  would  pass  in  two  or 
three  weeks,  the  vaults  of  the  United  States  Treasury 
would  be  opened,  and  he  would  be  invited  to  help  himself. 

But  months  passed  and  he  heard  no  more  of  his  bill.  He 
ventured  to  write  to  the  Congressman  about  it,  and  the  lat- 
ter said  in  reply  that  he  was  devoting  all  his  energies  to  the 
herculean  task  of  pushing  that  bill  through— in  fact  he  was 
not  doing  anything  else,  giving  to  it  his  entire  time  and 
attention.  The  truth  is  that  probably  he  had  not  thought 
of  the  bill  since  he  introduced  it. 

Si  believed  what  the  Member  told  him.  He  did  not  know 
that  every  year  thousands  of  such  bills  were  thrown  into 
the  hopper  of  the  congressional  mill,  to  cancel  campaign 
obligations,  and  that  not  one  in  twenty  of  them  ever  got 
beyond  the  capacious  pigeon-holes  of  the  committee-rooms. 

For  five  or  six  years  Si  watched  that  bill.  When  the  next 
election  came  around  the  Member  called  upon  Si  and  pointed 
with  pride  to  the  fact  that  he  had  introduced  the  bill;  if  he 
was  elected  again  he  would  certainly  get  it  through— and 
Si  **took  off  his  coat"  again  and  yelled  for  him  at  the  mass- 
meetings. 

During  this  Congress,  having  re-introduced  the  bill,  the 
Member  shoved  it  along  another  peg  by  getting  a  favora- 
ble report  from  the  committee.  Si  felt  greatly  encouraged 
at  this,  but  his  hopes  fell  again  when  Congress  expired  and 
the  bill  died  with  it.  The  work  all  had  to  be  done  over 
again. 


HIS  BILL  PASSES  BUT  IS  VETOED.  691 

Once  more  Si  helped  to  swell  the  Member's  majority  and 
then  the  latter  determined  to  see  what  he  could  do.  By 
adroit  management  he  contrived  to  advance  the  bill  rapidly 
and  at  length  got  it  before  the  House.  He  made  a  speech 
on  it,  which  was  *'the  greatest  effort  of  his  life,"  recounting 
with  fervid  eloquence  the  gallant  exploits  of  Corporal  Si 
Klegg,  and  denouncing  the  parsimony  of  the  government 
toward  him.  The  appeal  was  irresistible,  and  the  bill 
passed  by  an  overwhelming  majority.  The  Member  sent 
a  telegram  that  filled  with  joy  the  hearts  of  the  Klegg 
family. 

Feeling  that  the  success  of  the  bill  would  be  a  feather  in 
his  own  cap,  and  a  shining  example  that  would  greatly 
help  him  in  the  next  election,  the  Member  spared  no  effort 
to  steer  it  through  the  Senate.  Securing  the  interest  of 
the  senators  from  that  state,  they  took  hold  of  the  matter 
and  in  due  time  it  passed  that  body.  Another  telegram 
went  singing  over  the  wires,  conveying  to  Si  the  glad 
tidings. 

A  few  days  later  there  was  another  dispatch,  which  read : 
"The  President  has  vetoed  3^our  bill,"  and  there  was  woe 
again.  Si  received  by  mail  a  copy  of  the  message  which 
set  forth  in  elaborate  phrase  the  reasons  why  executive 
approval  had  been  withheld.  The  principal  one  was  that 
no  evidence  had  been  adduced  to  show  that  Josiah  Klegg 
did  not  receive  contributory  injuries  at  the  hands  of  the 
defeated  nine,  while  acting  as  umpire  of  a  base-ball  game. 


LIGHTS  OUT 


r 


APPENDIX. 

^"T^HIS  volume  has  far  outgrown  the  original  purpose  of  the  author. 

X  He  found  the  subject  so  fruitful  that  he  became  panic-stricken  as  the 
pages  multiplied,  and  "  threw  overboard  "  much  that  he  intended  should 
have  a  place.  Hundreds  of  pages  could  have  been  added  without  exhaust- 
ing the  theme,  how^ever  much  so  ponderous  a  volume  might  have  exhausted 
the  patience  of  the  reader.  Notwithstanding  his  dismay  at  the  size  of 
the  book,  the  writer  ventures  to  add  a  few  pages  which  will  assist  young 
readers  and  others,  who  were  not  soldiers,  to  understand  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  army  and  some  features  of  the  service  which  did  not  enter 
into  the  experience  of  Corporal  Klegg  and  Shorty.  The  "  veteran  "  may 
"  skip  "  this  if  he  chooses,  but  he  will  no  doubt  find  something  to  interest 
him  in  the  corps  badges  and  bugle  calls,  which  are  given  hereafter. 

Since  the  war  there  have  been  many  and  radical  changes  in  the  arms,, 
equipments,  tactics  and  regulations  of  the  United  States  army.  What- 
ever this  book  contains  applies  to  the  army  as  it  was  during  the  war. 
The  volunteers  stood  on  the  same  military  footing  as  the  soldiers  of  the 
regular  army.  Their  treatment  and  service  were  in  all  respects  the  same, 
and  there  was  no  difference  in  their  courage  or  fighting  abilities.  They 
marched  and  fought  side  by  side,  in  honorable  rivalry. 

Theoretically  there  was  the  same  happy  state  of  equality  so  far  as  the 
regular  and  volunteer  officers  were  concerned  ;  practically  there  was 
usually  more  or  less  friction  between  the  two  classes.  That  this  should 
have  been  so  is  hardly  a  cause  for  wonder.  Nothing  else  can  be  expected 
until  the  millennial  dawn,  when  "The  wolf  also  shall  dwell  with  the 
lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid ;  and  the  calf  and  the 
young  lion  and  the  fatling  together;  and  a  little  child  shall  lead  them." 
Then  there  will  be  no  need  for  either ' '  West  Pointers ' '  or  volunteers.  It  is 
not  strange  that  a  regular  officer — who  if  not  "to  themanner  bom"  was 
at  least  bred  to  it  by  years  of  military  study  and  practice— thought  he  knew 
more  about  war  than  one  who  left  the  plow,  the  anvil  or  the  counting- 
room  to  buckle  on  the  sword ;  and  that  he  chafed  and  grew  restive  under 
the  authority  of  a  volunteer  who  outranked  him.  The  regulars  did  not 
comprise  more  than  a  fortieth  part  of  the  army,  though  the  proportion 
of  officers  was  somewhat  greater. 

The  unit  in  the  composition  of  the  army  was  the  company  organization. 

692 


THE  THREE   "  ARMS  "  OF  THE  SERVICE.  693 

A  full  infantry  company  contained,  in  round  numbers,  one  hundred  men. 
It  had  three  commissioned  officers — captain,  first  lieutenant  and  second 
lieutenant ;  and  thirteen  non-commissioned  officers — first  or  orderly  ser- 
geant, four  duty  sergeants  and  eight  corporals. 

An  infantry  regiment  was  composed  of  ten  companies,  designated  by 
letters  from  A  to  K  inckisive.  The  letter  J  was  omitted,  on  account  of  the 
confusion  that  would  arise  from  the  similarity  in  writing,  of  I  and  J- 
There  were  a  few  regiments  with  but  eight  companies  each,  and  a  few 
with  twelve,  but  very  nearly  all  were  organized  as  above.  The  field  offi- 
cers were  colonel,  lieutenant-colonel  and  major,  having  rank  in  the  order 
given.  The  regimental  staff  officers  were  a  surgeon,  with  the  rank  of 
major;  two  assistant  surgeons  and  a  chaplain,  ranking  as  captains;  ad- 
jutant and  quartermaster,  with  the  rank  of  first  lieutenant.  There  was  a 
non-commissioned-staflf,  consisting  of  sergeant-major,  quartermaster-ser- 
geant, commissary-sergeant,  hospital  steward  and  principal  musician.  A 
regiment  when  full  to  the  maximum  had  thirty-nine  commissioned  officers, 
and  one  thousand — more  or  less — non-commissioned  officers  and  privates. 
In  official  returns  all  except  the  commissioned  officers  were  "lumped" 
as  "enlisted  men." 

A  regiment  of  cavalry  usually  contained  twelve  companies,  L  and  M 
being  used  in  addition  to  the  letters  designating  the  companies  of  an 
infantry  regiment.  The  general  organization  was  similar  to  the  infantry, 
•except  that  the  cavalry  regiment  was  divided  into  three  battalions  with 
one  major  for  each.    The  care  of  horses  also  required  saddlers,  shoers,etc. 

A  regiment  of  artillery  consisted  of  twelve  companies  or  batteries.  Each 
battery,  usually,  had  six  guns,  was  complete  in  itself,  and  in  almost  all 
cases  served  independently.  No  regiment  of  light  or  field  artillery,  for  obvi- 
ous reasons,  served  as  such,  in  the  same  compact  sense  as  a  regiment  of 
<:avalry  or  infantry.  The  batteries  which  composed  it  were  widely  scat- 
tered—often in  different  departments,  hundreds  of  miles  apart.  Scarcely 
half  of  the  field  artillery  had  a  regimental  organization  at  all.  There 
were  some  two  hundred  and  thirty  "independent"  batteries,  so  called, 
organized  in  different  states  and  duly  numbered,  as  6th  Ohio  or  10th New 
York  Battery. 

Each  of  these  three  branches  or  "  arms  "  of  the  military  service  had  its 
distinguishing  color — blue  for  infantry,  yellow  for  cavalry  and  red  for 
artillery.  The  body  of  the  uniform  worn  by  all  was  blue — the  trousers 
light  and  the  blouse  dark.  The  distinctive  colors  appeared  in  the  corded 
seams,  the  trimming  of  the  jackets  largely  worn  by  the  soldiers  of  the 
cavalry  and  artillery,  the  field  of  the  officers'  shoulder-straps,  and  the 
chevrons  of  the  non-commissioned  officers.  Artillerymen  usually  wore 
upon  the  front  of  their  caps  or  hats  a  brass  device  representing  two  can- 
nons crossed,  and  the  cavalrymen  wore  crossed  sabers.  When  a  man  was 
properly  dressed  it  was  easy  to  tell  at  a  glance  to  which  arm  of  the  ser- 
Tice  he  belonged. 

Five-sixths  of  the  fighting  was  done  by  the  infantry  soldiers.  This  was 
not  because  they  fought  any  better,  but  because  there  were  six  times  as 


694  CONCERNING  CAVALRYMEN. 

iiany  of  them  as  of  the  cavalry  and  artillery  combined.  The  cavalry 
was  largely  employed  in  scouting,  picketing,  "raiding"  and  other  impor- 
tant service  requiring  celerity  of  movenlent;  the  great  battles  were 
fought  chiefly  by  the  heavy  masses  of  infantry.  It  took  two  years  to 
ieam  how  to  use  cavalry  to  the  best  advantage,  and  to  get  a  body  of 
good  riders,  inured  to  the  exposure  and  hardship  incident  to  their  pecu- 
liar service. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  war  the  men  who  marched  with  burdened 
backs  looked  with  envious  eyes  upon  the  cavalrymen,  booted  and  spurred, 
as  they  galloped  gay\y  about,  with  clanking  sabers.  The  "walk  sol- 
diers "—or  "  dough-boys,"  as  the  cavalrymen  called  them— thought  that 
those  who  rode  horses  had  a  "  soft  thing."  *'  Who  ever  saw  a  dead  cav- 
alryman?" was  their  favorite  conundrum— and  everybody  gave  it  up. 
But  there  came  a  day  when  this  question  was  no  longer  asked— when  the 
"yellow  jackets"  were  often  seen  in  the  forefront  of  battle,  and  the  bodies 
of  the  slain  and  the  wounded  thickly  covered  the  gi'ound.  After  the 
cavalry  had  become  thoroughly  seasoned,  had  learned  the  art  of  fighting 
on  horseback,  and  was  organized  into  a  distinct  aggressive  force,  it  became 
a  most  important  factor  in  the  struggle.  The  history  of  the  world  re- 
cords no  more  brilliant  achievements  in  war  than  those  of  the  Union 
cavalry  imder  the  leadership  of  Sheridan,  Custer,  Wilson,  Kilpatrick, 
Buford,  Stoneman,  Grierson,  the  Greggs,  Averell,  Pleasonton,  Hatch, 
Torbert  and  many  others.  No  less  can  be  said  of  the  dashing  southern 
horsemen,  led  by  such  men  as  Stuart,  John  Morgan,  Wheeler,  Forrest, 
Fitzhugh  Lee  and  Hampton. 

During  the  last  year  of  the  war  cavalrymen  did  much  hard,  solid  fight- 
ing on  foot,  as  infantry,  and  against  infantry.  Moving  in  large  bodies 
the3^  were  enabled  to  cover  long  distances  w\th  a  speed  impossible  to  in- 
fantry, and  strike  the  enemy  at  a  desired  point.  Every  fourth  man,  at  a 
distance  in  the  rear,  held  the  horses  of  three  comrades  who  went  dis- 
mounted into  the  fight.  Sometimes  the  horse-holders  had  more  than 
they  could  well  manage,  when  the  enemy  tossed  a  few  shells  among  the 
animals,  occasionally  stampeding  them  in  the  most  effectual  manner.  In 
1863  and  1864,  particularly  in  the  western  army,  a  considerable  number 
of  infantry  regiments  were  supplied  with  horses  and  served  as  mounted 
infantry.  These  were  chiefly  armed  with  the  Spencer  repeating  rifle,  and 
did  most  excellent  service.  Well  drilled  in  the  tactics  of  infantry,  and 
usually  fighting  as  such,  their  swift  movements  made  them  exceedingly 
troublesome  to  the  enemy.  Wilder's  famous  brigade  of  mounted  infantry, 
which  served  so  conspicuously  in  the  Department  of  the  Cumberland, 
may  be  cited  as  an  illustration  of  this  style  of  marching  and  fighting. 

The  fact  is  that  until  a  man  "got  used  to  it," riding  a  horse  was  about 
as  hard  as  marching  and  carrying  a  knapsack  of  reasonable  size.  On 
reaching  camp  at  night  the  infantryman  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  look 
after  his  own  comfort,  while  the  cavalryman  had  his  horse  to  feed,  water 
and  groom.  He  was  required  to  take  good  care  of  his  horse,  and  to 
Siakc  this  his  first  business.    The  suppl3'ing  of  his  own  wants  was  a  see* 


THE  ARTILLERY.  695 

ondary  consideration.  On  the  whole  it  may  fairly  be  doubted  whether 
the  cavalryman  had  any  appreciable  advantage  over  him  who  trudged 
along  on  foot,  save  in  the  matter  of  foraging.  He  scoured  the  country 
and  had  the  first  pick  of  the  chickens  and  pigs  and  the  fruit  of  orchard 
and  field,  and  he  did  not  leave  anything  for  his  more  slowly  traveling 
comrade  if  he  could  help  it.  In  this  sphere  of  activity  the  average  cav- 
alryman was  "  a  terror." 

The  minds  of  the  infantrymen  were  further  poisoned  by  the  belief  that 
the  artillerymen  had  altogether  too  easy  a  time  of  it  when  on  the  march. 
It  was  conceded  that  an  equitable  share  of  the  fighting  fell  to  the  latter, 
and  that  they  did  it  well.  But  it  was  exasperating  to  the  weary  plodder, 
with  smarting  feet  and  aching  bones,  to  see  the  artillerymen  strolling 
along  with  nothing  to  carry  but  their  haversacks  and  canteens,  their 
knapsacks  and  blankets  being  piled  upon  the  caissons  and  "limbers." 
This  drove  the  iron  into  the  infantryman's  soul.  Each  piece  of  artillery, 
and  each  caisson,  battery-wagon,  etc.,  was  drawn  by  four  or  six  horses, 
with  numerous  drivers,  one  of  whom  rode  the  "  nigh ' '  animal  of  each  pair. 
If  a  gunner  or  "powder-monkey"  tired  of  walking  he  would  exchange 
for  an  hour  with  one  of  the  drivers,  the  latter  being  glad  of  a  chance  to 
stretch  his  legs.  These  things  had  a  disquieting  effect  upon  the  temper 
of  the  foot  soldier,  and  caused  him  to  bewail,  in  sheolic  language,  the 
cruel  fate  that  led  him  to  enlist  in  the  infantry  instead  of  the  artillery. 

Batteries  going  into  position  under  fire  were  often  seriously  embar- 
rassed by  the  killing  and  wounding  of  horses.  Artillerymen  were  pro- 
vided with  knives,  with  which  they  slashed  the  harness  and  cut  loose 
from  a  dead  or  disabled  animal,  and  the  remaining  horses  dashed  on  with 
the  gun.  Sometimes  when  going  at  a  mad  gallop,  a  killed  or  wounded 
horse  was  dragged  along  the  ground  a  great  distance.  Occasionally 
a  battery  in  action  lost  so  many  of  its  horses  that  in  case  of  retreat  or 
change  of  position  the  guns  had  to  be  hauled  by  the  men,  details  from 
the  mfantry  perhaps  assisting  in  the  work.  For  this  purpose  long  ropes 
were  provided,  and  in  this  way  many  guns  were  saved  from  capture. 

Late  in  the  war  several  regiments  of  "  heavy  artillery  "  were  recruited. 
The  name  was  attractive,  particularly  when  coupled  with  the  expecta- 
tion that  the  duty  would  be  confined  to  manning  the  heavy  guns  in  the 
forts.  This  pleasing  fiction  quickly  filled  to  overflowing  the  ranks  of 
these  regiments.  Some  of  them  took  the  field  with  as  high  as  eighteen 
hundred  men  each.  But  instead  of  sitting  down  behind  the  big  guns 
these  regiments  were  armed  with  muskets  as  infantry  and  ordered  to  "go 
in.''  They  did  so,  sufferingtremendous  losses  in  the  battles  around  Rich- 
mond. 

Each  infantry  regiment  habitually  carried  two  silk  flags,  which,  to- 
gether, constituted  a  " stand  "  of  colors.  One  was  the  regulation  "stars 
and  stripes"  and  the  other,  sometimes  called  the  "banner,"  was  often  a 
state  flag,  bearing  appropriate  devices,  presented  by  fiiends  of  the  regiment. 
The  colors  were  the  rallying  point  of  a  regiment.  If  it  lost  its  colors  it 
was  liable  to  become  a  disorganized  mass.    The  appearance  of  a  long  lin« 


696  THE  COLORS— DEPLETED  REGIMENTS. 

advancing  with  waving  flags  illustrated  in  the  clearest  manner  the  fore? 
and  beauty  of  the  words  (Song  of  Solomon  vi :  10)  "terrible  as  an  army 
with  banners."  It  was  esteemed  a  high  honor  to  carry  the  colors,  and 
the  color-bearers  were  men — usually  sergeants — of  tried  courage.  Each 
regiment  had  a  color-guard  of  six  or  eight  corporals,  detailed  from  differ- 
ent companies,  who  marched  with  the  colors,  and  whose  specific  duty  it 
was  to  defend  them  in  battle.  It  was  a  post  of  danger,  as  the  enemy's 
hottest  fire  was  often  directed  at  the  colors,  and  at  close  quarters  extraor- 
dinary efforts  were  made  to  capture  them,  as  trophies  of  valor.  It  was  not 
uncommon  in  a  battle  for  several  successive  color-bearers  to  be  shot  down, 
and  sometimes  not  a  man  of  the  color-guard  escaped  the  deadly  missiles. 
Others,  to  take  their  places,  were  never  wanting,  and  the  instant  a  flag 
went  down  the  staff"  was  seized  by  other  ready  hands,  and  the  ensign  was 
kept  waving  amidst  the  smoke  and  din  of  conflict. 

As  we  have  seen  in  the  experience  of  the  200th  Indiana,  full  regiments  on 
taking  the  field  were  rapidly  decimated  by  the  ravages  of  disease  and  bul- 
lets. Scarcely  more  than  half  of  the  men  enlisted  proved  to  be  physicallfr 
able  to  "  stand  the  service,"  and  battles  fast  thinned  the  ranks.  New  or- 
ganizations were  constantly  going  to  the  front,  but  a  "  veteran  "regiment 
having  three  hundred  men  was  a  large  one.  Some  regiments  were  fortu- 
nate in  occupying  the  less  exposed  positions  in  battle,  while  others,  which 
had  the  "hot"  places,  were  not  infrequentlj^,  for  the  time,  almost  anni- 
hilated. There  were  repeated  instances  in  which  but  one  or  two  oflicers 
and  a  proportionate  number  of  men  of  an  entire  regiment  escaped  unhurt. 
In  some  cases  regiments  became  so  reduced  that  they  could  not  maintain 
their  organizations,  and  were  consolidated  into  "  battalions,"  with  others 
which  had  similarly  suffered.  It  was  always  a  heavy  cross  for  its  mem- 
bers when  "the  good  of  the  service  "  made  consolidation  necessary,  and  a 
regiment  or  brigade  or  division  lost  the  individuality  under  which  it  had 
made  name  and  fame. 

Some  regiments  received  from  time  to  time  large  accessions  of  recruits, 
by  which  they  were  kept  well  filled.  Here  and  there  one  bore  upon  its  rolls 
from  first  to  last,  the  names  of  two  thousand  or  twenty-five  hundred  men. 
Many  high  in  authority  strenuously  advocated  the  policy  of  using  the 
new  levies  of  troops  to  fill  up  the  old,  depleted  regiments,  instead  of  organ- 
izing them  separately.  Wisely  or  otherwise  the  latter  plan  was  generally- 
adopted,  andmany  of  the  veteran  regiments  continued  but  mere  skeletons. 
It  was  urged,  with  much  good  reason,  that  raw  men  would  sooner  learn 
the  thousand-and-one  things  that  they  must  learn,  if  indirect  association 
'jvith  those  who  had  mastered  "soldiering;"  and  that  they  would  more 
readily  acquire  confidence  and  steadiness  under  fire  w^hen  touching  elbows 
with  the  tried  veterans  of  many  fields.  The  principal  difficulty  lay  in  the 
fact  that  those  who  spent  time  and  money  in  recruiting  expected  com- 
missions as  officers. 

Many  regiments  adopted — or  were  so  christened  by  others — grotesque 
or  suggestive  names  by  which  they  were  universally  known  through  the 
armies  in  which  they  served,  being  scarcely  mentioned,  except  officinJy,by 


REGIMENTAL  "PET"  NAMES— PAY— RANK.  697 

their  numerical  designations.  As  examples  may  be  mentioned  the  Pedn- 
sylvania  "  Bucktails,"  the  "  Orange  Blossoms  "—a  regiment  chiefly  raised 
in  Orange  county,  New  York— and  a  Wisconsin  regiment  known  as  the 
''Wildcats."  The  50th  Illinois  got  the  name  of  the  "Blind  Half  Hun- 
dred," which  it  retained  to  the  end.  The  8th  Wisconsin  carried  the  eagle 
"Old  Abe"— well  known  to  every  soldier  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumber- 
land—through the  war,  and  was  always  called  the  "Eagle  Regiment." 
Some  regiments  took  upon  themselves  such  blood-curdling  names  as 
"Tigers,"  "Avengers,"  etc.,  suggestive  of  peculiarly  sanguinary  habits. 
Many  soldiers  to  this  day  speak  with  evident  satisfaction  of  their  regi- 
ments as,  for  example,  the  "Bloody"  99th  Rhode  Island. 

Of  course  officers  received  more  pay  than  enlisted  men.  The  difference 
was,  however,  more  apparent  than  real,  as  an  officer  was  required  to  pay 
outof  his  wages,  all  his  personal  expenses— clothing,  food,  etc., —rarely  less 
than  $40  to  $50  a  month.  The  enlisted  man  was  paid  from  $13  to  $25  per 
month  and  "found"— that  is,  he  received  in  addition  his  clothing  and 
rations.  The  government  kindly  loaned  the  officer  a  tent  to  sleep  in,  but 
if  it  was  lost  or  destroyed,  and  he  failed  to  satisfactorily  account  for  it, 
he  had  to  pay  for  it.  Company  or  "line"  officers  received  from  $100 
to  $120  per  month,  the  pay  increasing  rapidly  with  the  higher  grades. 

Rank  was  denoted  by  shoulder-staps  as  follows:  second  lieutenant,  plain 
strap  with  clear  field;  first  lieutenant,  one  bar  in  each  end  of  the  strap; 
captain,  two  bars;  major, gilt  leaf;  lieutenant-colonel, silver  leaf;  colonel] 
spread  eagle  in  center;  brigadier-general,  one  star;  major-general,  two 
stars ;  lieutenant-general,  three  stars ;  general,  four  stars.  The  rank  of 
"  general "  cannot  be  acquired  by  regular  promotion.  It  can  only  be  cre- 
ated by  special  act  of  Congress.  U.  S.  Grant  and  William  T.  Sherman  are 
the  only  persons  who  have  ever  held  that  rank  in  the  United  States  Army. 
An  act  was  passed  authorizing  the  appointment  of  George  Washington 
to  that  grade,  but  he  was  not  appointed.  Only  Washington,  Grant, 
Sherman  and  Sheridan  have  held  the  rank  of  lieutenant-general;  Winfield 
Scott  was  a  lieutenant-general  by  brevet. 

A  brigade  contained  three  or  more  regiments,  there  being  no  fixed 
number.  Early  in  the  war,  when  regiments  were  large,  rarely  more 
than  four  were  placed  in  one  brigade.  In  1864  many  brigades  con- 
tained from  six  to  ten  regiments  each— and  these  brigades  were  not 
more  than  half  as  strong,  numerically,  as  those  which  at  the  outset  had 
but  four.  As  a  general  thing  three  brigades  made  a  division  and  three 
divisions  a  corps.  The  corps  operating  in  a  department  constituted 
an  "  army  "—as  Army  of  the  Potomac,  Cumberiand,  or  Tennessee.  The 
corps  were  distinguished  by  badges.  The  colors,  red,  white  and  blue, 
indicated  the  divisions— first,  second  and  third,  respectively— as,  a  red 
trefoil  or  clover-leaf.  First  Division,  Second  Corps ;  white  triangle,  Second 
Division,  Fourth  Corps ;  blue  star.  Third  Division,  Twentieth  Corps.  A 
badge  was  worn  by  every  soldier  and  also  marked  thewagons,  tents,  etc., 
of  each  corps. 
No    badge    was   ever   adopted   for   the    Thirteenth  Corps.     Neither 


698 


THE  CORPS  BADGES. 


FIRST. 


SECOND. 


THIRD. 


^ 


FOURTH.  FIFTH, 


SIXTH. 


SEVENTH.  EIGHTH. 


NINTH. 


TENTK.> 


BLEVENTH.  TWELFTH, 


THE  CORPS  BADGES. 


699 


FOURTEENTH.  FIFTEENTH.  SIXTEENTH 


SEVENTEENTH.  EIGHTEENTH.  NINETEENTH, 


TWENTIETH.  TWENTY -SECOND.     TWENTY -THIRO. 


TWENTY-FOURTH.   TWENTY-FIFTH.  POTOMAC  CAV. 


700 


THE  CORPS  BADGES. 


WILSON'S  CAV. 


ENGINEERS. 


SIGNAL  CORPS. 


was  there  a  badge  for  the  Twenty-first,  as  that  corps  was  discontinued 
in  October,  1863,  when  it  was  consolidated  with  the  old  Twentieth 
Corps.  The  corps  so  formed  became  the  Fourth,  and  thus  continued 
till  the  close  of  the  war.  Up  to  that  time  corps  badges  had  not  been  gen- 
erally adopted  in  the  western  army.  Soon  after  this  the  Eleventh  and 
Twelfth  Corps — which  had  been  sent  from  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  to 
reinforce  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  at  C  hattanooga— were  consolidated 
and  became  the  new  Twentieth  Corps,  which  took  as  its  badge  the  five- 
pointed  star  of  the  Twelfth. 

One  of  the  inexplicable  things  about  a  battle  was  the  small  proportion 
of  casual  ties,  even  in  the  bloodiest  engagements,  to  the  amount  of  ammu- 
nition expended.  To  illustrate :  In  a  battle  with,  say,  fifty  thousand  men 
on  each  side,  lasting  two  days,  each  soldier  would  fire,  on  an  average,  one 
liundred  cartridges.  If  one  bullet  out  of  one  hundred  struck  a  man,  none 
in  either  army  would  escape  being  hit.  At  Chickamauga  the  killed  and 
wounded  were  about  thirty  per  cent.,  so  that  the  ratio  of  men  struck  to 
rounds  fired — saying  nothing  of  the  artillery— was  less  than  one  to  three 
hundred.  One  who  goes  through  a  long,  hard  haitle  is  amazed  to  find 
himself  alive.     He  wonders — and  well  he  may — that  any  can  escape. 

Some  of  the  more  familiar  bugle  calls  have  been  heretofore  given.  The 
following  will  touch  responsive  chords  in  the  ear  and  memory  of  every 
«oldier : 


The  Meveille, 


110  =  J  Allegro 


.ER_j4__ 
•J 

-'-M 

-#-4- -r-r-T-f- 

-■^ 

r.c. 

—  HI 

1-^ — L 

s=« 

^^3 

180  =  J  Presto, 


THE  BUGLE  CALLS. 
The  General, 


701 


^=^^^^ 


80  =  J  Andarde. 


The  Assembly, 


I 


3 


f-f-rff-3 


ir~^    f  f  * 


^ 


J* — i»-*-i«-#; 


t=r=t 


?=p=p 


?Tr-y- 


pr::q=rj=± 


m 


# — f 


?z: 


■0 — # — # — #- 


«i=J 


^  J  Andante, 


^ •-^— ^ 


#=qE 


tzt 


To  the  Color, 


^e — |t_ 


y 


110  =  J  Andante 

•      8 


Dinner  Coe^* 

8  8  3 


^^^^^^g^??^rg?'^"^T^g 


r     f  p  m  f  f^f^ 


wirrr 


■ m^lm^ #-#- 


■P    P    f    P\ 


^    P   P    P 


W=W^ 


^m 


702 

80  =  J  Andante, 


THE  BUGLE  CALL*. 

Church  Call, 


IZ. 


.(2-*. 


E 


3 


i 


0'  0    0- 


Officers"     Call. 


icmwu^izi^. 


-ft—^' 


:^r=t 


=j: 


P  '  f    f  '  P 


P—^ 


-fSL. 


m 


-1 r r 


i2eft*6af. 


76  =    '  Andante. 


[1E3EE?: 


t^^ 


i^=^¥- 


T-r- 1 — h- 


:±jt 


3FES 


a 


112  =  J  Alle^o, 

r7\         r7\         <C\ 


Taf^oo. 


^^8=h 


(^— T- 


^^ 


E^^E^?5 


■0-^^—0- 
l-l I 


-0-^ 


H-^-#- 


.^- 


^^ 


C=|: 


5ca 


^£^ 


^ 


^ 


fE±=5=i: 


t^^:i=t 


g 


i^ 


istie 


tir=t=t:r=^ 


-• — i»^- 


~1    F    i. 


^»^ 


P 


^S 


j:^fc^f=^:|^i:^ 


■pi- 


1^ 


THE  BUGLE  CALLS.  708 

The  following  are  some  of  the  more  familiar  cavalry  calls : 
The   General, 


'^—H- 


ISg^g^^ 


Boots  and  Saddles, 


To  Horse, 


t^^^^^^-^i^i^i 


i^^ 


The  A.ssenihly. 


:^-^FE,E=pztp=*^;3^&=tpztEtEf 


:±z*z*±rj?:it±zf 


^ ' ■^ 


ruTi^l-tn- 


^  Pv^  f 


i^l 


To  Arms, 


pgr^^i^sg 


Esm^^^E 


♦s^ 


-^.s ^ 


^ 


:«3: 


Ei: 


*^ 


GJr/'jr/rJicadVS 


^  ^  p    r 


!  ri  #1 


/^04 


THE  BUGLE  CALLS. 
To  the  Standard, 


i 


■^4^ 


sxi 


Epp 


3=s; 


:f      i.n- 


'0^-0-0- 


:p=p: 


-I U^-l 


■#  #    # 


^S3^ 


g^l^izzzl^ 


.^L-^-^. 


t 


w^~rTr^ 


:p=|:^|=..z=^!z=j: 


:p=p: 


ifnpzpnz^ 


P-LJ""  i^  ^-)e,^-#- 


r^^jPngEg^gg^ 


-0-0-0-0-0-  -I 


a 


stable   Call, 


D.   C. 


I 


_^ ^_^L_^_^ ^_ 


■^-H-- 


f     ^     ^^     fg 


i 


S  3 


^ 


^      P  f  P  P ^ 


SF*=i=^s* 


iH^sd 


^ ^i p   f  p  #-g- 


I 


^atigiie     CalL 


^ii^ 


-p:   f 


t=t 


^i^^ 


V— - 


-«-Fr — ^-1 ^-F — «— F-i r-i :IJ 


A  i?'EW  FACTS  AND  FIGURES, 


705 


A  few  general  facts  relative  to  the  war,  condensed  into  the  briefest  pos- 
sible space,  will  be  of  interest.  The  various  calls  for  troops  made  by  the 
President  of  the  United  States  were  as  follows: 

April  15,  1861,  three  months 75,000 

May  3,  1861,  three  years 500,000 

July  2,  1862,  three  years 300,000 

Aug.  4,  1862,  nine  months 300,000 

Oct.  17,  1863,  three  years 300,000 

Feb.  1,1864,  three  years 200,000 

March  14,  1864,  three  years 200,000 

July  18,  1864,  three  years 500,000 

I>cc.  19,  1864,  three  years 300,000 


Total 2,675,000 

In  addition  to  the  above,  militia  to  the  number  of  about  150,000  were 

called  out  for  short  periods,  to  meet  critical  emergencies. 
The  following  shows  the  total  number  of  men  furnished  for  the  Union 

army,  in  all  branches  of  the  service,  by  each  state  and  territory: 


Alabama 

Arkansas 

California 

Colorado  Ter... 

Connecticut 

Delaware 

Dakota  Ter 

Florida 

Illinois , 

Indiana 

Iowa , 

Indian  Nation., 

Kansas , 

Kentucky 

Louisiana , 

Maine 

Maryland , 

Massachusetts. 

Michigan 

Minnesota , 

Mississippi 

Missouri 


2,576 

8,289 

15,725 

4,903 

57,379 

13,670 

306 

1,290 

259,147 

197.167 

76,309 

3,530 

20,151 

79,025 

5,224 

72,114 

50,316 

152,048 

89,372 

25,052 

545 

109.111 


Nebraska  Ter 3,157 

New  Hampshire 34,629 

New  Jersey 81,010 

New  York 467,047 

New  Mexico  Ter 6,561 

Nevada 1,080 

North  Carolina 3,156 

Ohio 319,659 

Oregon 1,810 

Pennsylvania 366,107 


Rhode  Island. 

Tennessee 

Texas 

Vermont 

Washington  Ter 

West  Virginia 

Wisconsin 

District  of  Columbia. 
Colored  troops 


23,699 
31,092 
1,965 
35,262 
964 
32,068 
96,424 
16,872 
93,442 


Total 2,859,132 


Included  in  the  above  are  86,724  who  paid  their  commutation  after 
having  been  drafted. 

There  were  organized  from  the  volunteer  forces,  at  various  times,  258 
regiments  and  170  independent  companies  of  cavalry,  57  regiments  and 
232  separate  batteries  of  artillery,  and  1,666  regiments  and  306  inde- 
pendent companies  of  infantry— equivalent  to  a  total  of  2,047  regiments. 


706 


death's  ravages. 


In  addition  there  were  30  regiments,  of  aU  arms,  in  the  regular  annL" , 
which  numbered,  first  to  last,  67,000  men. 
The  following  is  a  very  nearly  correct  statement  of  the  loss  of  life: 

Killed  in  battle 61,35^ 

Died  of  wounds 32,081 

Died  of  disease 186,216 

Died  in  captivity 35,000 

Various  causes 2,146 

Total 316,805 

The  number  of  Union  soldiers  wounded  in  action  was  280,040,  and 

184,791  were  captured.     Typhoid  and  other  fevers  swept  awaj^  43,715  ; 

diarrhea  in  its  various  forms,  44,558 ;  lung  diseases,  26,468 ;  smafl-pox, 

7,058 ;  measles,  5,177. 
The  total  number  of  interments  in  the  various  national  cemeteries  is 

318,870.    This  includes  a  considerable  number  of  civilians,  Comederates, 

and  the  dead  of  other  wars.  The  following  are  the  most  populous  of  these 

cities  of  the  dead : 


Arlmgton,  Va 16,264 

Nashville,  Tenn 16,526 

Vicksburg,  Miss 16,600 

Fredericksburg,  Va 15,257 

Memphis,  Tenn 13,977 

Andersonville,  Ga 13,714 

Salisburv,  N.  C 12,126 

Chattanooga,  Tenn 12,962 

Chalmette,  La 12,511 

Jefferson  Barracks,  Mo 11,490 

Marietta,  Ga 10,151 


Beaufort,  S.  C 9,241 

Richmond,  Va 6,542 

Poplar  Grove,  Va 6,199 

Stone  River,  Tenn 6,145 

Corinth,  Miss 5,716 

Citv  Point,  Va 5,152 

Hampton,  Va 5,424 

Little  Rock,  Ark 5,602 

Mound  Citv,  111 5,226 

Gett3'sburg,  Pa 3,575 

Winchester,  Va 4,459 


Blood  was  shed  in  2,261  battles  and  skirmishes. 
loss  in  each,  on  the  Union  side,  exceeded  500. 


In  149  of  these  th© 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
575 


